


Dramatic Orchestrations (2012)

by Ergott



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: And then suddenly FAMILY EVERYWHERE!, F/M, Jareth chooses not to pine from afar anymore, Jareth is bad at these things, Novel Length, Rewrite of an older work, Romance, Sarah is a little bit angsty, This is why you don't give me tags, Toby's been compromised, sort of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-19
Updated: 2012-12-12
Packaged: 2017-11-19 01:37:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/567583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ergott/pseuds/Ergott
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At nineteen Sarah Williams has settled into a comfortingly mundane life, the Labyrinth nothing but a hazy memory. She should have known better than to forget though, because the Goblin King is not willing to let the past die. J/S This is a rewrite of the original story by the same title.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Second Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> So six years after Dramatic Orchestrations was first written, I've decided to sit down and redo it. When I originally created this story, I pretty much made it up as I went along and, as a consequence, there were a lot of plot threads that were never properly explained or explored. There are a lot of elements in this story that I plan to tighten up in the interest of creating a better, more cohesive tale. Some parts of the story will remain untouched, some parts will introduce new content, while other parts will change completely. I will remain true to the spirit of the fic, but I hope that when everything is said and done we will be left with a story that we can all agree is at least a little bit better than the original was.
> 
> To date, Dramatic Orchestrations is the longest story I've ever written, so this project may take some time to complete, especially since more things will change in later parts of the story as compared to earlier parts. What this means for the sequel, Listen For Thunder, I'm still not certain. We will cross that bridge together when we get there.
> 
> This first chapter was comprised of what had originally been the first two chapters. Most of the content changes here were just me rewording things for better flow. 
> 
> This story is also archived at fanfiction.net and deviantart.
> 
> Again, please leave a comment!  
> Most importantly, let's all just have fun with this! Also, I will try my best to leave the original version up, in case you find you still prefer that to the new one. Otherwise, happy reading!
> 
> Please leave a comment!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing recognizable as having come from the movie Labyrinth. This story was written purely in the interest of fun, and no money is being made off it.

_Somewhere the world was flat and filled with grassy fields that seemed to stretch on forever, glistening with dew that had yet to burn up in the afternoon sun. Somewhere the sky was blue and the air was hot and thick. Somewhere there was an ocean, warm and endless like a good bath. Somewhere there were humans._

_But not here._

_Here there were mountains, jagged and gently sloped alike, rising up as if to touch the heavens. Here the sky was an impossible mix of gold, orange, and silver, and the air was thin and cold like all proper mountain air should be. Here there was snow, a frozen ocean glittering like fallen stardust. Here there was magic._

_His family had lived and ruled here for millennia, and would continue to do so, but…_

_But something was changing._

_Just a gentle shift in the wind, just a brief twist in his heart. That was all that he could feel right now, but more would come, he was certain of it. More would come, and for better or worse, his kingdom would change. Something momentous was just over the horizon, something that would define a new age for his people. He could only hope that it would be for the best._

* * *

Music filtered slowly to her ears, soft and lulling. It was a gentle, pretty waltz, the kind of thing that no one listened to anymore. For a while, the music was the only thing she was aware of. Then, slowly, her other senses kicked in. She was somewhere dark and cold, somewhere large and open.

Suddenly, as if sensing her new awareness, sconces lit along the walls, followed quickly by table-bound candles, then several fireplaces nearly twice her height roared to life, and finally two massive crystal chandeliers began to burn brightly. What had once been no more than blank darkness was now alive with firelight. The coldness did not abate, though, and a chilled draft played cruel tricks on the fire, which in turn played cruel tricks on her. The fires flickered and wavered, casting shadows that seemed to dance in time to the gentle waltz. The sight was beautiful and mesmerizing, but more than a little unnerving. Feeling uneasy, she resolutely turned her gaze away from the shadows.

Quietly, the girl walked around the enormous room, taking in her new surroundings. The floor was made of exquisite marble that gleamed in the firelight, flashing the barest hints of warm orange and gentle grey. The walls were covered in soft purple, red, and gold tapestries, and the ceiling seemed to rise up forever, studded by the two chandeliers on either end of the room. It was a stunning ballroom that clearly conveyed the owner's wealth while still managing to be open and inviting. All the same, something about the place was off; something made her nervous.

The waltz slowed and reached its end, and for one horrible moment everything was still and silent. The shadows seemed to lengthen and freeze, and despite the heat that must have been pouring out of the blazing fires, the room grew colder still. Some primitive fear sparked in the girl's brain, warning her that the silence and the stillness was unnatural and wrong. She paused, holding her breath as some long forgotten instinct begged her to run. Just as her nerves reached the breaking point, the invisible players picked up again, this time with a sprightly court tune that probably hadn't been played in centuries. Mollified, the shadows began to move once more, and if she looked hard enough she swore she could see them take the form of one distinct silhouette, endlessly repeated. The stillness was gone, but her nerves did not retreat; disturbed by the subtle wrongness she could could not place, the girl began looking for an exit.

"Leaving so soon?" The voice was no more than a whisper, but echoed throughout the entire room.

The shadows seemed to freeze, and if they had possessed eyes she had no doubt that they would all be looking right at her. Discreetly she tried to move a little closer to the door that she had found. Just as she seemed to reach her means of escape, the giant double doors slammed shut with a resounding bang.

"Please let me out," the girl pleaded evenly, striving for a bravery she did not completely feel.

"Oh no, dear, we can't have you leaving before the real fun gets started," the voice chuckled, no longer whispering. The speaker was cultured and male, but beyond that the voice defied identification.

The girl squared her shoulders, drew herself up to her full height and demanded, "Open the doors."

"The party's barely begun," he laughed at her impatience. "We haven't even been properly introduced yet, and you would leave now? Very poor manners, my lady."

Equal parts unnerved and angered, she whirled around, grabbed one of the door handles and began to yank viciously. The heavy wood refused to budge. "Let me out!" she gritted, aware that the shadows were beginning to close in on her.

A sigh ghosted over her ear. "I had hoped for a better reaction on your part, but I suppose some things are inevitable."

She gave up on the door, but didn't turn around. Whatever shape the disconcerting presence behind her took, the girl was certain she didn't want to see it. "What are you talking about?"

"It will happen sooner than you think." Another sigh. " _Faster_ than you think."

"I don't understand," she whispered tightly, confusion restricting her throat.

The shadows loomed and deepened, the presence behind her becoming oppressive. "He is coming for you," the voice replied, not a warning or a threat, just mere fact lacing his tone. " _We_ are coming for you."

The girl had questions, _so many questions_ , but the doors were suddenly swinging open on silent hinges, and escape was more important than answers right now. Without sparing a glance behind her, without giving in to the temptation to see who she'd been talking to, the girl strode over the threshold, out into the corridor and…

Sarah Williams jolted out of bed, confused and disoriented as the fog of her strange dream quickly evaporated in the face of reality. She sighed and began to gather up the sheets that had been tossed aside when she had jumped from her sleep. She couldn't quite remember what it was that had startled her, but she was sure it had been something unusual. Not that unusual wasn't entirely unexpected; strange things seemed to happen around her on a regular basis. Still, something about this stuck with her, a subtle unease lurking at the back of her thoughts.

Once the bed was straightened she looked out the window and decided it wouldn't be worth it to go back to sleep since the sun was already coming up. "Terrible way to start the morning," she grumbled to herself, already heading to the bathroom for a nice hot shower.

The water was slow to warm up that morning, and she idly drummed her fingers while she waited, sneaking an occasional glance in the mirror. Something about the silvered glass made her uncomfortable, as though her subtly changing reflection was slowly turning into a stranger. When she'd been fifteen, Sarah had had smooth brown hair, serious hazel eyes, and a lanky figure; at nineteen now, her hair was silky black, her eyes a laughing emerald, and her figure had filled out pleasantly, bearing curves where there had once been nothing. The stranger in the mirror was beautiful, but a stranger all the same. Still, if she looked hard enough she could see the same wistful air she'd always carried about herself, still see the longing in her eyes for something more than she was getting, still feel the utter yearning for adventure. There just seemed to be some things the soul could not shed itself of.

Tearing her glance away from the mirror, Sarah stepped into the shower and hissed slightly as the now scalding water hit her skin. She'd spent too much time waiting, had let her thoughts drift for too long. Yet, even now, her thoughts continued to drift, and she found herself unable to stop them. Given free rein, her mind inevitably settled on the Labyrinth. Four and a half years after the fact and she still couldn't figure out what had happened. Sarah knew the fantastic adventure wasn't realistically possible; people did not pop into different dimensions and run giant mazes to save their little brothers. But in her heart she knew that even she had dreamt the entirety of the Labyrinth, the lessons that the experience had given her were real enough.

And that was where the metaphor broke down, because sometimes she felt as though she hadn't changed at all.

Lesson one: be careful what you wish for and mean what you say; which she thought was asking a lot of any teenager, seeing as they were all ruled by hormones and emotions, and sometimes things just slipped. It wasn't an excuse, but a sad reality. Sarah had a sinking feeling that she would always be a little impulsive, no matter how old she became.

Lesson two: take nothing for granted, which was certainly harder than it sounded, because she found herself taking things for granted all the time.

Lesson three: make sacrifices and embrace maturity, but there were times when she wanted nothing more than to kick and scream until things went her way. Sarah was standing just at the edge of adulthood and, in many ways, she was already an adult, but there were times when it was comforting, when it was _easier_ , to wear the guise of a child.

Of course there were times when it seemed as though _everything_ had changed and she had well and truly learned her lessons. But, as the saying goes, nothing lasts forever and she would inevitably find herself slipping back into old habits.

'I can't avoid growing up,' she thought seriously while lathering her hair. 'So I wish I could stop clinging to my childhood.' But somewhere deep in her mind, she knew that the thought of fully growing up scared her, that somewhere along the line something that essentially made her who she was would be lost for good. 'This is normal, this is natural. I have to learn to let go!' But the feeling was still there, niggling at her soul and warning her that some things were meant to be kept forever.

* * *

_The humans had always been skittish around him and his kind, but something was off. Mortals that had lived in villages on the outskirts of his kingdom had vanished. Trading posts that did regular business with the races of man were suddenly reporting a complete lack of activity._

_Something was terribly wrong, and he had a sinking feeling that it was only going to get worse._

* * *

'The park sure is empty for a Saturday,' Sarah thought while keeping an eye on Merlin, her great big Old English Sheepdog that was now pushing quite the advanced age; he trotted ahead of her at a much more sedate pace than he once had. "I suppose no one wants to be out in the cold, huh Merlin?" She asked the dog, while subconsciously pulling her long coat tighter against herself. He spared her a brief look, raising his doggy brows, before diving into the nearest snow bank and hopelessly matting his fur with little snowballs. "Some things never change, do they boy? Snow still makes you act like a little puppy!" Sarah laughed while he rolled on his back, paws waving merrily in the air.

"Your dog is weird." Sarah nearly shrieked, until she turned around to find Toby standing behind her, giving Merlin 'The Look'.

"I thought you were staying home," she commented once her heart had slowed down.

He shrugged as gracefully as any five year old in a giant winter coat and several layers of shirts could manage, "Changed my mind."

"He's your dog too, you know," she said, finally responding to his jibe.

"Nah, he's only mine when he does something cool. He's all yours when he's stupid." Sarah never would have used flippant when describing a kindergartener, but sometimes there was no better way to describe her half-brother. There was just something about the way he carried himself, the way he talked and acted, that made Toby different from every other child she had ever met. He was special, she just couldn't entirely figure out how or why.

Together they stared at the dog for a moment longer before silently agreeing to let him have his fun while they had their own.

"Snowman?" Toby suggested.

"Sounds like a plan," Sarah agreed.

It took them a while, since the snow wasn't exactly right for building, being a bit on the powdery side, and Toby seemed hell-bent on throwing snowballs whenever Sarah turned her back to him, but eventually they completed it.

"It doesn't look like a snowman," Toby said, blue eyes grinning while he brushed snow out of his dark blond hair.

"No, it doesn't," Sarah agreed. "I guess it's a snow… blob," she said laughing. Whatever it was that they had created was short and squat, bearing a mild resemblance to a smiling piece of lumpy clay.

"Like a gremlin or something," he suggested.

"Or a goblin," she giggled, easing in two sticks for arms while Toby tried to use some chalk to color in the grinning mouth.

"Yeah, a snow-goblin. I like that," he mumbled while finally managing to smear some color onto the white crystals.

They stepped back for a moment to view their lopsided masterpiece, and both burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of it.

* * *

_A child was missing, a human child, which explained the sudden absence of mortals near his region. His kind were suspected of committing the crime, and that angered him. He had never done anything to harm the humans, but they always seemed to forget that when they needed someone to blame. He had no idea where the child was, but he sincerely doubted it was in his land. Surely he would have noticed a mortal among them! But it wasn't going to be so easy to convince the humans of that. There was a battle in front of him and, even as confrontational as he was, he didn't relish the strain this was going to put on his people, not to mention the relationship between the magic and non-magic creatures._

_This was not the change he had once envisioned nor, truth be told, the change be had hoped for._

* * *

The rest of the day came and went in a haze of snowball fights and hot chocolate. The night was fast in coming, and Sarah had felt sad to stop the fun she was having with her brother because of it.

But the night wasn't been all bad: just after dinner it began to snow, and so she sat in her darkened room to watch it. The snow-shower wasn't heavy, but it was no mere flurry either. The large flakes danced down from the sky like graceful confetti, glinting silver in the porch lights below her. Now and then, a gentle wind picked up and rolled the crystals in mid-air, bringing them to rest on the roof by her window.

Sarah loved snow, always entranced by the simple joy it brought. Some part of her longed to go outside and enjoy the simple beauty of winter. Karen was not as understanding of Sarah's compulsion, so the young girl had to make do with watching the world from her room. And she did, for long minutes that slipped into quiet hours, until it was time to go to sleep.

Sarah hesitated slightly before climbing into bed. She couldn't remember the dream that had bothered her that morning, but she had a feeling it hadn't been good. 'I'm being silly,' she thought with a smile. 'I _think_ I had a nightmare, and so I'm afraid to go to sleep? I'm too old to be that insecure.' With that she settled down, burrowed under the covers, and slipped into Morpheus's arms, never noticing the snowy white owl perched outside her window.


	2. On Matters of Remembrance

_He tried to be fair, tried to be accepting of the humans and their ways, but he could never get around how dichotomous they were. The humans appreciated his ethereal beauty, but immediately distrusted him because of it._

_He had searched his kingdom from top to bottom, and the child was well and truly nowhere within it. But the mortals refused to believe that. They insisted that he had spirited the young boy away and was keeping him prisoner in somewhere magically hidden. Their accusations were insulting, especially since he had never done anything to earn their distrust; they simply blamed him because he was who he was._

_Now the humans wanted to come search his domain for themselves, and while that could potentially improve relations between the separate races, he was uneasy with the idea. It felt too much like an invasion for him to grant the request. At his word, the mortals would flood in and tear his lands apart looking for a boy that was probably lost in one of their own cities; that was a nightmare, if ever he'd heard one. To refuse the request, however, would be tantamount to an admission of guilt. He was damned if he did and damned if he didn't._

_The King sighed, leaning heavily against a wall. Something had to be done; this problem would not resolve on its own, and he could not afford to sit idly by and watch as the situation steadily deteriorated. There had to be some way that he could let the mortals into his realm without allowing them the opportunity to destroy it._

_Quietly he moved to a window, looking out at the vast lands that comprised his kingdom. His domain was vast and beautiful and he could not allow anything to threaten it, but it would take great cunning to protect his borders. Luckily, cunning was something he had in abundance. A plan began to form just at the edge of his thoughts; it was twisted, magnificently terrifying, beautifully poisoned, and most importantly it was completely unexpected. This plan would change the land, but not so much that his people would be unable to continue living there._

_With hope, and not just a bit of vindictive glee, The King pushed away from the window and made his way down the corridor, intent on setting this new plan into motion._

* * *

Sarah abruptly remembered the dream that had so thoroughly disturbed her: the frigid ballroom filled with a hundred copies of the same silhouette. Of course, remembering didn't help in the least since she suddenly found herself dreaming once more. This time she was in a twisting hallway filled with the same endless shadow passing all around her.

She tried valiantly—Sarah knew it was a dream, after all, and what harm could befall her in a dream?—but she was still unnerved. At the moment, she was sorely tempted to let her bravado escape her, but the makeshift courage had always served her well.

Secure in the knowledge that she was dreaming, Sarah allowed herself to explore. The hallway was made of a simple sand-colored stone, and if she looked hard enough she could see glittering chips of quartz or maybe even marble imbedded within the giant blocks. There was something odd about the corridor, though: it seemed to stretch into eternity. No twists, no turns, no other routes to go down, just the one path spreading out further than her eyes could follow. If she didn't know any better, she would have sworn she was in the Labyrinth.

Sarah paused, frowning. Did she know any better?

She'd never reached a solid conclusion on whether the events of that one magic-fueled night had actually happened or if she had merely dreamt the whole thing. Though she couldn't remember the details particularly well anymore, she did know that the night had been surreal, if nothing else. And surreal was the perfect word to describe what was facing her now.

"You don't look happy to be here," one of the shadows observed. It was the same voice from her previous dream: amused, lightly accented, and male.

Sarah studied the shadowy echo for a moment. He was certainly male, there was no getting around that, a little shorter than average but still taller than her, and what she could determine of his build seemed lithe and sinewy. Something about the way he held himself struck a familiar chord in her, but there was no placing him without the necessary visual cues. He played over the surface of the wall but seemed detached from it somehow, as though he didn't need light in order to exist.

"Where am I this time?" Sarah sighed wearily. These waking dreams were fast getting old.

He paused, cocking his head to the side. "It's just a dream, precious. Don't you enjoy dreaming?"

"You brought me here?" Sarah asked, avoiding the question.

He paused at her deflection, considering her in silence. The moment stretched awkwardly before he finally chuckled, "Indeed." He laughed quietly. "I'm afraid I'm growing restless. We both are."

"Who are you?" Sarah asked, bewildered. "Who's this other person you keep mentioning? Can't you just tell me what's going on?" But she had a sinking feeling that she was already supposed to know the answers to these questions.

The shadow shook his head. "If you don't already know, then I'm not really the right one to tell you. You'll simply have to wait for him."

"Him who?" Sarah snarled, growing frustrated.

"You truly have forgotten, haven't you?" the shadow sighed. "This is unfortunate."

Sarah struggled with her thoughts for several long minutes. Obviously, she couldn't remember what she'd forgotten, but there had to be some clues around to help her. If she really was in the Labyrinth then she at least knew the context of this dream… sort of. With a wince, she acknowledged that she'd allowed herself to let memories of the Labyrinth slip from her thoughts. Out of sight, out of mind, as the saying goes; like any good dream, the details had faded until she was left with nothing more than a vague memory. In truth, she remembered little else but the lessons she'd been meant learn.

Taking his companion's silence as confirmation, the shadow sighed. "This complicates matters," he hummed in thought. "Perhaps I misspoke earlier. It wouldn't do to let him blindside you; it would only create bad blood." The shadow paused, drumming soundless fingers against an incorporeal thigh. "There's nothing for it; you'll have to be reminded."

"What are you talking about?" Sarah asked carefully. She didn't like the abrupt turn this conversation had taken.

But the shadow ignored her question. "Understand that I do this out of necessity only," he said gently. His arm detached from the wall, a ghostly specter that brushed her cheek in the echo of a touch. "But you must remember… the future depends on it."

At his touch, the world around Sarah wavered and began to melt like ice on a sun baked sidewalk.

* * *

_Progress was painfully slow, but he had some thirteen weeks before the mortals would arrive in the outskirts of his kingdom. And_ oh _, wouldn't they be surprised when they got there!_

* * *

Sarah Williams was unamused.

Once again she had woken up to find herself jerking out of bed. The details were already starting to become sketchy, but she remembered this new dream better than the last. 'I've obviously been thinking of the Labyrinth too much,' she thought, settling back into bed. 'Speak of the devil and he shall appear.'

Just then, something clattered to the floor.

There was a moment in which she could do nothing but groan at her bad luck. Was she doomed to never get a good night's sleep again? Sarah allowed herself to wallow in that thought for a few minutes before finally leaning over the edge of the bed to see what had fallen.

Red leather and gilded edging started back at her.

Sarah grabbed the book and studied it in confusion. She wouldn't claim to have a perfect memory, but she could clearly remember having given _The Labyrinth_ to Toby. It was possible he'd decided to return it, but he'd been so in love with the story that it seemed far more likely that he'd simply left the book in her room by accident.

Idly, she flipped through the play, determined to give the book back to her little brother in the morning. Just as she was about to put the little story aside and curl back into the comfort of sleep, a note slipped from between the pages.

* * *

_Walls rose up out of the earth, high and crooked. Forests and meadows rearranged themselves into endlessly twisting paths, interlocking and changing often enough to ensnare the unwary. Mountains moved to form natural barriers around his domain, like protective shields. Space rippled, bending and stretching to accommodate the numerous dimensions of the now fortified kingdom. His people gladly moved into the quiet places that were deemed most habitable, and new creatures were born to take up residence in the areas that were less hospitable. Even Time bowed to his every whim._

_But it wasn't_ enough _, something was still missing._

* * *

' _And so it begins,_ ' was written in a curling, intricate script across the tiny piece of paper.

As Sarah stared at the note, she couldn't help but think about that tiny sliver of space between dreams and reality: a world made of hopes and promises that never come to pass. It was the sort of place where little children would never have to grow up, where fantasies could run amok, where there were no limitations or boundaries because it was made out of pure imagination.

But the sliver had a dark side as well.

It could also be a world of bad dreams; nightmares where even the fondest wish could be twisted and bent until it was nothing but a mockery of hope. Where a person simply couldn't stop their darkest fears from becoming real because fears were just as much a part of their being as good dreams were.

Sarah was staring at a note from that halfway-world.

There was something strange about being presented with proof, however small, that her dreams might contain some shred of reality. A door of possibilities had just been opened before her very eyes, and Sarah wasn't sure how she should feel about it. On the one hand, it was fantastic and gratifying and full of endless wonder. This could be an opportunity to explore all those well-loved stories everyone insisted weren't real! On the other hand, it also meant that the Labyrinth _existed_ somewhere. And while that wasn't entirely bad it _was_ problematic, especially considering how little she could recall of her visit there. She remembered wishing Toby away, a gargantuan maze, a few funny looking goblins, and that she was supposed to have matured. Beyond that she had a few flashes of memory, but they were more like vague feelings only half formed.

Someone was now trying to remind her of a world that she had obviously taken for granted, but to what end? What good could possibly come from her recovering those lost events?

'The note could always be a coincidence,' she reasoned while staring down at the curling script. But Sarah had stopped believing in coincidence a long time ago.

* * *

_He needed a weapon, something pretty that he could use to seduce the humans and then turn against them. There had to be some way to ensnare them long enough to ensure his victory._

_There was an aspect, an entire dimension, of this new land that wasn't being fully realized yet. He had to find it, harness it, and then wield it like an angry god. The mortals would regret having ever challenged him._

* * *

Sarah didn't remember closing her eyes, didn't remember having laid back down on the bed, but she must have because she was fairly certain that foggy, endless voids only appeared in dreams. 'Of course, I have been wrong before,' she thought with a derisive snort.

There was something ahead of her—at least, she assumed it was ahead of her; there wasn't really a point of reference in the void. The creature seemed to suffer from the strange affliction of all her current dreams, being entirely made, as it was, of shadows.

"Oh, it's you," a male, grumpy-sounding voice intoned.

"What?" asked Sarah.

Non sequitur of anything, he replied, "Shows how much you know, don't it?" As he spoke, his figure slowly began to take shape.

"I don't understand. What's going on here?" she demanded, but the voice carried on as though it hadn't heard her at all.

"Even if you make it to the center, you'll never get out again." Now there was wispy white hair under a leather cap. Disjointedly, he continued, "I just do. Nice young girl, terrible black oubliette." Concerned blue eyes appeared under giant bushy brows. "Of course you are, but it only gets harder from here on in." Hands, large and gnarled, connected to oddly slim wrists.

"Who are you?" she asked confusedly. The words felt familiar, the tone endearing. Deja vu ate at her, but she still couldn't quite place him.

Her question went once more ignored. "Let me put it this way: what choice have you got?" Legs, short and stubby, connected to an equally compressed torso. "That's not fair; them's mine!" Rough trousers, a leather vest, and a thick off-white shirt blinked into existence. "Why'd you have to go and do a thing like that?!" A face, large and wrinkled, formed over a short neck and slim shoulders.

"I know you, don't I?" Sarah whispered, mesmerized and caught in a sudden whirlwind of remembrance. A short old dwarf, grumpy but sweet at heart, cowardly but brave when it mattered most. He was a friend.

"It's _Hoggle_!" His voice growled out, seemingly annoyed.

Hoggle, her stalwart and tumultuous friend. How could she have forgotten him? Sarah desperately thought of her journey through the Labyrinth, of all the twists and tests she would have failed if not for Hoggle's help—she'd repaid him poorly indeed.

Focused now on her dear friend, Sarah almost didn't notice the slight shift in the world around. The void rippled, her thoughts slipping as she fought to stay with the echo of Hoggle, but the harder she struggled, the faster and farther she seemed to fall into the quickly changing scenery.

* * *

_The King could have laughed at how simple the answer turned out to be._

_Dreams. Humans had thousands of dreams. They thrived and survived on them. Being a creature of magic, he had the ability to see past a mortal's body: he could look into their very soul and find the truth of what they wanted most. Being a King he had the power to bring those wishes to life._

_'And I will, too,' he thought with a smirk. 'Won't they be sorry!'_

_Even the most vigilant man could not deny his deepest desires, and The King would be more than happy to grant them. However, the mortals would soon find out that there would be a price to pay, and that he was neither a patient man when collecting debts nor a kind one._

_He grinned wickedly, thinking of all the awful things he could do to the lost souls that would soon haunt his domain._

_A web of magic quietly began to weave itself throughout the new land. It zigzagged through narrow corridors, spiraled through gloomy caves, snaked through silent forests, and formed its center to always surround The King. Power surged down its endless stands, and the web became an invisible menace, everywhere and yet nowhere at all. Energy leaked out of impatient tendrils, eagerly awaiting the first victims it would be able to wrap around and stifle in a cocoon of poisoned fantasies._

_He let out a cold chuckle, slowly testing the new awareness the magic web afforded him. He would be ready. Whatever the humans tried, he would be ready to do whatever necessary to prevent them from ever making it to the heart of his kingdom._

_He gave a satisfied laugh, the rich sound coming out ominous. There would simply be no escaping him, he thought with smug grin._

* * *

Sarah shifted uncomfortably. She wasn't sure where this new dream had taken her, a repeating pattern that made it impossible for her to relax. Up ahead was a simple dirt path stretching forward before snaking off into a dark forest. _Something_ was in that forest, waiting for her. She wasn't sure how she knew, but she swore she could feel large predatory eyes watching her every move.

"I'm alone, in a forest, and possibly being stalked by an animal," she mumbled to herself. "All right, Sarah Williams, where do you go from here?"

A cry sounded from behind her, a bellowing, howling cry that shook her ribcage and bounced off the trees, scaring birds into flight. Every instinct she possessed told her to run, but Sarah stood rooted to the spot. The only place to go would be into the woods but, as horrible as the sound was, the thought that something worse could be lurking between those dark trees kept her in place. Deciding to face the problem behind her, she half turned around, giving herself enough leeway to dodge into the woods if the situation proved to be more than she could handle.

Behind her was a small field, no more than half an acre of tall grass, surrounded by a large brick wall with a door that didn't seem to have a handle. The cry sounded again, closer this time, and she swore she felt the earth beneath her ripple. A series of crashing thuds rang out and Sarah noticed that stones from a large portion of the wall were merrily rolling out of place to settle around the tiny plot of land.

Through the damaged wall emerged a giant beast. It was comparable in size to a grizzly bear, had fur that was wild and matted, and its lower jaw extended further than the upper, revealing two large, tusk-like teeth. The monster turned its great head to look at her, and for a moment Sarah considered running down the path, damn the unknown. But something in his eyes held her in place. He looked sad, like a puppy that had been punished but didn't understand why. Something about the monster tried to spark a memory. She had met this creature before, she was sure of it.

"Sarah friend," he spoke brokenly, in a deep and gentle voice.

That was all it took. A switch flipped somewhere, and light dawned in Sarah's eyes. A giant beast with ginger orange fur, who looked a terrible menace but was really the sweetest thing she had ever met. "Ludo?" She whispered quietly.

He hunched his shoulders slightly, and lumbered closer to where she was standing. "Ludo sad," he whimpered.

Sarah reached out to comfort her sensitive friend, but the world around her faded away before she could even touch him.

* * *

_He was furious._

_The thirteen weeks had passed, and he had utilized that time to the very best of his ability. He thought his Kingdom was as ready as it could ever be._

_But the humans had not come as unprepared as he had anticipated._

_Before, he had been intent on watching from the sidelines as the game was played out, his only concern being to protect the land and his people. Now, he would have to enter the game himself, truly be the vengeful god from their nightmares, using every trick he had at his command to stop them._

_They had come with shovels, axes, knives, swords, spears, and trebuchets. The humans had come to start a war._ _He would give them that war, one they would never forget._

_The wind howled and his kingdom grew dark. Slowly he wrapped his silent web around a few mortals, tapping into the darkness within their hearts. Unknown things began to creep in the shadows now, stalking their unintentional creators._

_This was a game that they could never win. They were expecting a monster, so he'd give them one. If they wanted a villain, then he'd be it! 'After all,' he thought bitterly, 'I would hate to disappoint their expectations of me. That's what started this damn mess in the first place!'_

_Invisible tendrils wrapped around ankles and necks, delving deep into their fears and fantasies. The King saw it all and, for truly the first time in his life, laughed at the exhilaration of the chase. He knew exactly how to repay them for their impudence and stupidity._

_Somewhere in the twisting corridors, tucked deep in inky shadows, screams rang out like sirens. It wasn't terribly long before the sound was silenced._

* * *

Sarah desperately wanted to wake up. Large swaths of memory were quickly filtering back into place, filling in gaps of a puzzle that she hadn't even been aware of. It was dizzying, yet at the same time something was preventing her from fully accepting the magnitude of such recoveries. Her mind was saving the brunt of this new information for when she was truly awake.

Sarah desperately clawed upwards from the abyss, but the higher she climbed the heavier she felt. With a scream of frustration she sensed whatever it was that had been supporting her blink out of existence. She seemed momentarily frozen in place, but gravity soon exerted itself and she plunged deeper down into the darkness, her hair whipping about her face violently. 'I could use some Helping Hands right about now,' she thought desperately, hoping that wherever she landed was made of cushy mattresses or pillows.

Abruptly, the world resolved itself, and if she had been fully conscious, Sarah was certain her head would be pounding from all her unexpected traveling.

The room she now occupied had a dirt floor, four uneven stone walls, and a rough wooden ceiling. She seemed to be stuck to said ceiling, attached to it somehow. Or perhaps she wasn't actually a part of this dream, merely witnessing it instead.

"I would _really_ like to go home now!" she shouted, struggling to wake up. There was a hum from somewhere behind her, after which she found that her perspective had shifted so she was looking across the room rather than down on it. Sarah tensed; the invisible eyes from her previous dream were watching her again. She thought perhaps that it might have been Ludo, or even the shadow-man from her first dream, but neither of them had made her feel _hunted_.

A hatch in the ceiling opened and Sarah watched with interest as a rope ladder was lowered to the ground. At first she thought it was a short, hairy man descending the ladder, but as she looked closer she could see that this was not the case. A small orange-red fox dressed in bright velvet and brocade had just entered the room. He had a patch over one eye and seemed to be holding what was either a spear or a very short lance. With a stealth that the human eye almost couldn't follow, he made his way to a dummy set up in one corner and began to practice an odd form of fighting that seemed to rely heavily on his speed and hurling very antiquated insults.

"I know I'm supposed to know you; I've know all the other ones so far," Sarah muttered to herself, straining her memory as far as it could go. "I think I have a stuffed animal that looks just like you," she realized.

The fox-man whirled around, eyes searching the room. "Lady Sarah?" He questioned hesitantly to what must have looked like an empty room. "Hast thou called me out?"

And just like before with the previous two dreams, something suddenly clicked into place. He was a knight, a bit on the loud side, and not well aware of his surroundings, but a brave and loyal fox nonetheless. "Sir Didymus!" she cried out happily.

But, just as before, he was already fading from view, still searching for a voice that he may or may not have heard.

"All right," Sarah shouted out into the void, "who else have I forgotten?! Not that this hasn't been fun but, well… this hasn't been fun. In fact, it's been downright frustrating. I want to wake up. _NOW!_ " The words echoed out into the nothingness until it became an endless demand, continuously bouncing back at her from everywhere and nowhere at all.

A quiet chuckle sliced through her circling protestations. There was a shape that moved in the darkness, and an almost silent hum that slowly began to reach her ears. Those eyes! Whoever this stranger was, they were the owner of those eyes that had been following her. She could feel them staring at her intently, even if she couldn't see anything. As the figure drew closer she felt a hand reach out to brush the hair back from her neck.

"Only one person left, Sarah," he whispered into her ear. "And I have to say I'm insulted you don't remember."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally chapters three, four, and five. Again, the work done here was mostly just light editing, though there have been a few minor plot changes already. (I should probably mention that, as of the posting of this chapter, the original is only archived at fanfiction.net.)
> 
> Please leave a comment!
> 
> Disclaimer: The characters, settings, and situation of Labyrinth are not mine, and I am making no money off this story.


	3. Debt Collector

Sarah awoke with a scream trapped in her throat; there was a name was on the tip of her tongue but a part of her shied away from remembering it. The side of her neck tingled where it had been brushed by an invisible hand, and she couldn't help but feel that she had narrowly escaped a great danger. Who was this man—creature?—that her mind was trying to protect her from?

Disoriented, Sarah pulled the bedcovers up to her chest and cautiously looked around; it was a childish reaction to what was probably no more than a bad dream, but comforting all the same. For a moment her room seemed completely alien to her, but after several long moments the world righted itself. The room was as it had always been: small but clean, with a minimal amount furniture aside her bed, a small dresser, and her old vanity table. Some would call the room Spartan but she had always felt that it suited her needs just fine.

Leaning back onto her pillows, Sarah let out a heavy sigh and tried to calm her nerves. Out of all the dreams she'd had that night, that last one had been more than a little intense. Somebody, or _something_ , had been stalking her with a singleminded purpose. She wasn't sure how it was possible for the same person to follow her through three different dreams, but it definitely had. Sarah shuddered at the thought of his brief touch; she didn't even want to contemplate what might have happened if she hadn't woken up in time. True to form, her thoughts eased away from the topic, settling on the sturdier ground of what she had actually seen in her dreams: Hoggle, Ludo, and Sir Didymus.

An overwhelming sense of regret ate at Sarah. Her three friends had helped her through the Labyrinth, saved her life on more than one occasion, and she had repaid them in the worst way possible. This went so far beyond simply denying that they had been real; she had outright wiped their very existence from her mind. It was betrayal on some very basic level. Her throat tightened at the thought that there could be others. How many had she loved so deeply and hurt so casually? She knew with a grave certainty that there had to be others: she could feel an emptiness in her mind where something had once resided. 'What sort of friend am I to simply forget about them? After every challenge we struggled through together, how could I let them just slip from my thoughts?' Sarah pondered dejectedly.

* * *

_The King gazed at those who had thus far survived his trickery. Their numbers were weak and dwindling, but then so were his. Humans were much more tenacious than he had given them credit for. His gaze turned in to an icy glare; loyal subject had died by those mortal hands. He wanted to make them suffer dearly for their ill won victories, but he would have to let at least a few of them go. If there were no survivors then there could be no stories to perpetuate his warning against mankind._

_He would recede, fold his kingdom into a new space and leave the human realm. There he could bide his time, perhaps a century, two at most, long enough to be remembered but relegated to bedtime stories and threats against misbehaving children. He would return in that proud cloak of a night terror, ready to have his revenge. The waiting would be sweet, because he would only re-enter the mortal realm to take away what they prized most._

_They valued their children enough to war with an Immortal King, did they?_

* * *

Sarah would have spent the morning moping over the heartbreaking truths her dreams had revealed to her if not for Toby. He had pounded into her room with all the grace and enthusiasm that came naturally to five year-olds, demanding that she get up and play with him. Breakfast was spent over a deck of cards, the rest of the morning passed in round after round of checkers, and the afternoon had snuck by in a few drawn out games of Battle Ship.

Small memories had come back to her over the course of the day. During one of the card games she remembered the Fireys and their desire to detach her head. Later, during an important move in checkers, she had recalled the little blue worm who kept offering her 'a cuppa tea'. Then, in the midst of Battle Ship, she had recalled cackling goblins, complaining door-knockers, and a Wise Man with a wisecracking bird for a hat. For most of the day she'd been disoriented enough that she had constantly felt somewhere between quietly sobbing and laughing hysterically. Toby had managed to capitalize on her perpetual distraction and had won nearly every game they played. Eventually, he had dismissed her in annoyance, saying that if she wasn't even going to put in the effort then he would play with someone else.

It wasn't until early evening that Sarah finally found herself alone with her thoughts again. She sat at her vanity, head resting on folded arms, as her gaze drilled into the mirror. She glared at the glass as though that would help her see straight through it and directly into the Labyrinth.

'But shouldst thou have need of us…'

'Yes, if you need us…'

"I'll call," Sarah whispered to the echo of her friends' words. She desperately wanted to call them, but she didn't know if they would answer. Might they angry with her? Did they know that they had been forgotten, or did they merely think she had grown away from them? Would they have forgotten her in return? She had no idea how time passed in the Labyrinth, for all she knew her adventure could have happened a hundred years ago, or a thousand, or even yesterday afternoon.

Like a flash, the image of a thirteen hour clock darted through her mind, but the thought quickly became insubstantial, like the final stretch of a path she had not yet begun to walk down.

Sighing, Sarah glanced to her left, her gaze landing on the mysterious note. 'Why now?' she thought to herself. 'Why at all, really? Something must have happened, otherwise it would make no sense that someone wanted me to remember after all this time. But what exactly, and why bother me about it?' She let out a frustrated huff. 'I'm missing something important. That shadow-man was no help at all, rambling on and on about _him_ —whoever _he_ is.' Her gaze shifted back to the mirror and she focused on it intently. "There's nothing I can do but wait," she resignedly admitted to her own reflection.

* * *

_Out of all the mortals that had stormed into his lands, less than a third were eventually able to leave. He had watched them go, hating them and the freedom that his new plan had granted. By all rights their lives had belonged to him; he should have been free to deal with them as he saw fit. However, he knew that those few souls would never be enough to soothe his anger. When they had entered his domain with the desire for battle... it had been an insult against the kingdom of magic, and so he intended to take his revenge upon all of the kingdoms of men._

_The 'lucky' ones had staggered away, some of them weeping, others blessing their own skills not realizing that the only reason they had escaped his hold was because he had willed it. Even now he wanted to reach out and reclaim their lives, punish their impudence, but he knew they had a purpose to serve. Like all good survivors they would recover and tell gruesome stories of their struggles to any who would listen. Even without his encouragement, they would paint tales of unspeakable horror: corridors with minds of their own, forests filled with nightmare creatures, gardens possessing flowers with the power to ensnare the minds of great men, and a cruel King with a lust for blood. The stories would be passed down from generation to generation, getting more fantastic and outrageous every time they were told, until they were like an indelible mark upon the mortal culture. The humans would easily remember him a hundred years from now._

_He shifted on his throne agitatedly, sparing the survivors one last glance through a crystal, before setting his mind to business. There would be much to do in the coming years, but first he had to separate his kingdom from the mortal world. It would be dangerous work, and the amount of magic it would take was daunting. He had never really tested the limit of his abilities, though. Still, it was one thing to change the land, but quite another to shift it all into another dimension entirely. The King had manipulated space before, but never on such a grand scale._

_Quietly, he rose from is throne and headed towards his study. There was much research to be done._

* * *

This time Sarah knew that she hadn't gone to sleep. One minute she had been sitting in front of her vanity, the next she was somewhere else entirely.

The land around her was nestled between sloping, forest-covered mountains, creating a small valley that was naturally open near the center. Snow covered everything in a fine, even layer and glittered like pearl dust in the moonlight, casting a faint blue-silver glow around the clearing. The snow created a natural sound barrier, muffling the ambient sounds of nature until the valley was nearly silent.

Sarah's breath hung in the air in concentrated little puffs as she explored, ice quietly crunching under her… booted feet? Looking down at herself for the first time, Sarah realized that she was no longer wearing the comfy sweat pants and flannel shirt she'd been planning to sleep in. She was nestled in a gown of some kind, but the details were obscured by a long, dark coat made out of a heavy material that she couldn't quite place. It felt like a cross between velvet and fur, but with the inherent warmth of thick wool.

Quietly enchanted by her surroundings, and not knowing what else to do, Sarah began to walk further into the clearing.

* * *

_It had taken many weeks to find a spell that he could adapt enough to serve his purpose, and several more weeks to spread the news around his Kingdom sufficiently._

_It had taken just over three days to reach the full depth of his own power, and another two days to weave the spell properly. His domain had spent those curious hours wavering between two realms, existing in both places and yet neither all at once. When the spell had_ finally _been completed, his lands occupied a space just underneath the mortal world._

_He had spent the following six days somewhere between death and delirium. Healers and mages could do nothing for him; by all rights their King should have died._

_Sheer stubbornness alone delivered him out of the bony clutched of Death._

* * *

The valley hadn't looked very large at first glance, but now that Sarah was exploring, it seemed to stretch on forever. There were no dancing or flitting shadows in this dream, no foggy voids, no friends to be remembered; she was completely alone in an empty, endless valley.

* * *

_The years passed, as they were wont to, and steadily he repaired the damage the humans had inflicted. He slowly expanded the walls of his Kingdom, making it larger and infinitely more complex; he wanted to be certain that no mortal could survive traversing his realm without his express aid. Of course, the first few years of expansion were slow, but as he regained his strength his malicious enthusiasm returned._

_A century and a half of feverish improvements passed before The King decided that he had waited long enough._

_He took to studying the humans, stalking them from the veil between worlds as he looked for a weakness to exploit. It had long ago been decided that his revenge would rob the mortals of their children, but he wanted to develop a method that would extract the most amount of pain from the act. He wanted the perfect revenge. And the more he watched, the more he came to understand his prey: humans were creatures of whims, impatient and prone to saying things they did not mean._

_The first one was almost been too easy. She was a new mother, barely released from her own mother's bosom, and her little one had been crying for hours more than the soul could bear. In a fit of frustration she had shouted at the babe, "I wish someone would come and take you away!"_

_The King found he was only too happy to oblige her request._

" _Oh god, you're him, aren't you? The Dark King who wielded nightmares against the people of the valley!"_ _She trembled and pleaded, even cried, but he was unmoved._

_"If you want the babe back," he whispered once her sobs quieted, "then all you must do is find him."_

_She looked at him with wide, watery eyes._ " _Where is he?"_

" _He is in my castle, beyond the Goblin City." Suddenly the walls around them melted, and his lands stood proudly, grotesquely before them. A twisting Labyrinth spread out before the woman's eyes, complex and frightening._

" _I must solve this to get to him?" she choked on a sob._

" _You have thirteen hours before I claim your son as one of my own." One hour for every week it had taken to build the original Labyrinth. He left her with statement, but watched her progress through the twisting maze._

_It was embarrassing in some respects; the girl was determined to save her baby yet she was still a child herself. Without the experience of time or the instinct of age, her efforts merely lead her in the wrong direction. He took some small pity on the woman and spared her from some of the true horrors he had to offer. This one was ill prepared and, at the very least, would have to be sent back alive to add a new layer to the legend surrounding his name._

_All too soon the thirteen hours came to a close. The King sent the devastated mother back to her own realm, determined to remain unmoved by the miserable weeping wretch._ _Of course, once that was taken care of he then had the problem of figuring out what to do with the baby._

* * *

Sarah sighed. "I'm losing feeling in my lower extremities. Was there a point to this dream, or can I go home to thaw?"

"How I have missed your brash impatience," a man responded. His voice was rich, smooth, and dark, not unlike the shadow-man she'd dreamt of previously. The subtle difference was that the shadow left her uneasy, while this voice put her in mind of things like triple chocolate cake, caramel flavored coffee, or silk-lined velvet.

Sarah shivered slightly, whether from the cold or the tone she was uncertain, and strained her eyes in the semi-darkness, looking the speaker. To her surprise, he appeared no more than a few paces ahead of her.

The night seemed darker around the stranger than anywhere else in the valley and it kept her from gaining any definite grasp on his features. He was slim but not feeble, there was an obvious strength to his frame. Aside from that, however, she could determine nothing. The details of the man wavered as though she were seeing him through a layered veil, catching only glimpses but no more. Despite the visual irrationality of his appearance, she could still see that he was juggling snowballs.

Juggling…Sarah frowned. Why did that sound wrong? There was no other word to describe the curious action, yet 'juggling' seemed too crude to do the talent justice. The stranger's motions were fluid and graceful, the perfect harmony of intent and skill. His hands snaked through the air, the snowballs helpless to do anything but follow.

Cautiously, she approached him. "Am I supposed to know you too?"

"You _do_ know me," he asserted, never faltering or looking away from his trick.

"Do I?" she furrowed her brow.

_("You're him, aren't you? You're the-")_

"Don't you?" He teased, glancing at her.

_(A proud arrogant face cocked to the side, smile mocking, while uneven blue eyes flashed with undisguised amusement.)_

Sarah frowned. "You seem familiar, but that isn't saying much these days."

"You wound me, Sarah. Am I really that easily forgotten?"

For a moment she thought she saw a flash of blond hair through his cloak of darkness.

_(Hair that was wild, flying out in every conceivable direction, the color of pale gold with the glossy sheen of silk.)_

"I'm getting echoes of things I think I once knew," she admitted.

_(His clothes were dark and imposing, clinging to him as though they had been sewn around his body, rather than simply tailored to fit.)_

He turned his gaze back to his hands, but his tone was no less serious for his diverted attention. "Commit to them, Sarah. Catch them and keep them. Remember as you have not been able to for years."

_(His words were mocking, but his eyes held a certain amount of fondness and respect for her.)_

"It's just… I don't know if I want to. Something about this doesn't feel right. Why can't I see you like the others?"

_("So the Labyrinth is a piece of cake, is it? Well, let's see how you deal with this little slice.")_

"I pierced the veil for you those times. I could do so right now, but I'd rather that you remember me on your own or not at all." He seemed to be getting more solid around the edges but only if she didn't try to focus on them too much.

_("You're no match for me Sarah.")_

"So you're saying that you're the one who triggered my memories of the others?" She inched slightly closer.

_("Turn back Sarah. Turn back before it's too late," but the voice sounded as though it were egging her on rather than warning her off.)_

"I had help, but yes. It was me," he admitted carelessly. "I was rather tired of holding on to their memories for you."

_("I am exhausted of living up to your expectations of me.")_

Sarah frowned again. "Holding on...? You took their memories from me?"

"Indeed," the tone was increasingly amused now, and she could have sworn she caught a brief glimpse of a smile.

_(It was a smile that sent shivers down her spine. His teeth were blindingly white, the canines delicately pointed, but she had no doubt that they could be as wickedly sharp as any knife. This was a smile that at its worst sent homicidal maniacs running in terror, and at its best likely had women swooning all around him.)_

"Who are you?" Something in the back of her mind was straining to break free.

He hummed noncommittally and probably would have waved one of his hands in a dismissive gesture if they hadn't both been otherwise occupied.

Sarah continued to inch forward carefully. As she drew closer she could see that he wasn't manipulating snowballs as she'd first thought, but, instead, perfectly crystals. The sight awoke a dormant memory from deep within her mind.

_("I've brought you a present."_

" _What is it?"_

" _It's a crystal, nothing more. But if you turn it this way, and look into it, it will show you your dreams. But this is not a gift for an ordinary girl who takes care of a screaming baby. Do you want it?" He stilled his busy hands and held out the crystal in offering. "Then forget about the baby." His smile was haunting and cruel, made all the more terrifying by the incongruent longing reflected in his gaze.)_

Sarah's eyes widened. "Goblin King," she shouted in surprise.

He turned to her fully, utterly visible and corporeal after her revelation. The crystals he'd so easily guided popped into nothingness like soap bubbles and, before she could get over her shock, he grabbed her arm above the elbow. "Well done, precious."

"Let go," she ordered with mounting panic. It was one thing to face the Goblin King, it was quite another to face him while being inundated with memories that were trying to fit themselves back into her thoughts like puzzle pieces.

He considered for a moment, then gently shook his head. "We have business to settle, you and I."

* * *

_Over a century and a half and he had never really stopped to think about what he would do with the stolen children!_

_He absently drummed his fingers on the side of his throne while staring at the baby in his lap. "I don't know what to do with you," he told the child frankly._

_The babe merely gurgled at him._

_"I'm telling you now because I want us to be clear on this fact later. I'm ashamed to admit that I didn't plan this far ahead."_

_The baby ignored him in favor of jerking the lace fringe at his right wrist._

_"I wouldn't have even involved you at all, but it was the easiest way to get back at your people for what they did to my lands. Really, you should be thankful that your foolish mother has spared you from my wrath; I can't very well exact revenge upon you when you are now one of my own subjects." He leaned further into his throne, thinking. "I would ask you what you'd prefer your fate to be, but I doubt it would be a very long conversation until you learn to speak," he said, carefully prying his amulet out of the boy's tiny grasp._

_When he had felt things starting to change all those centuries ago he had never imagined this curious impasse._

* * *

Sarah stared at Jareth in amazement. He was drenched in pitch black leather and wine red velvet in a way that was decadent and yet viciously male. A heavy black cloak with silver and blue stitching settled heavily over his shoulders. His skin stood out starkly against the darkness of his clothing, glowing with an inner luminescence. He hadn't changed at all in the intervening years: everything about him was still pale and powerful.

Sarah looked down to where his leather-clad hand still held her arm and furiously tried to think of what to say. It had to be meaningful, poignant. They had a history of antagonism, and she would not start out their reacquaintance on the wrong foot.

"What do you mean? We don't have business." She inwardly cringed at the whine she could hear creeping into her voice. That wasn't exactly the line she had been going for, it sounded more petulant than commanding. Trying to redeem herself slightly, she added, "There's nothing to settle. I won, you lost. End of story."

" _That_ story, perhaps. But this is a new one Sarah, and you owe me," he explained patiently.

"I don't owe you anything," she gaped at him, wondering what trick he was trying to pull over her now. "Why can't you leave well enough alone? This right here is hardly dignified," she gave him a tight smile. "We matched wits, and you lost. There's no point in being a sore loser about it some five years later." Carefully, she attempted to tug her arm out of his grasp.

Jareth's eyes narrowed, his mouth folding into a patronizing sneer. "I am a king, my dear, and unaccustomed to losing." His steely grip tightened. "But that is beside the point. I am not acting out of any desire for revenge. This is unrelated to the outcome of our little... game."

Sarah braced her feet apart and tried pulling her arm back with the weight of her body. "Then what _are_ you doing?" She panted lightly, deciding absently that she had likely pulled a muscle in her shoulder.

"Collecting debts," Jareth shrugged. "Stop that," he added testily. With a jerk of his wrist, he had her scrambling to maintain her footing.

She stumbled a bit, catching herself just before she crashed into him. "I already told you that I don't owe you _anything_ ," she glared, fidgeting just to spite him.

"I beg to differ." Jareth's face was calculatingly blank, but she got the impression that he was restraining himself from rolling his eyes at her antics. "Thirteen hours," he added, apparently non sequitur of anything.

Sarah hesitated at that, trying to make sense of his random outburst. Drawing a blank, she finally asked, "What?"

Was he telling her to run the Labyrinth again? True enough, she had won last time, but now that she had a few extra years behind her and a fresh view of those memories, she could see that her victory had had more to do with luck than skill. She wasn't sure if she could do it again, especially not without that burning need she'd had to rescue Toby. If she hadn't had that incentive the first time, she was positive she would have failed miserably.

Jareth's thumb ran circles over her arm; from anyone else the gesture would have been soothing. "I can see the wheels turning behind those delightful eyes of yours, but you can put your worries to rest. All I ask for is thirteen hours of your time; no more, no less." His voice was smooth and measured, neither reassuring nor threatening.

It couldn't be that simple, otherwise he wouldn't still be holding onto her as though he expected her to bolt at any minute. Confused, Sarah dared a glance to his eyes; he was studying her, calculating. There had to be something else was going on here, some subtext that she wasn't picking up on. "I still don't understand," she replied honestly.

Jareth sighed, looking both a little disappointed and a little delighted. "When you wished your brother away I gave you the chance to win him back. I didn't have to do that, Sarah, but I enjoy playing the game that way. So I gave you thirteen hours to solve the Labyrinth and you capitalized on that time to defeat me." Tone softening slightly, he continued, "I bare you no ill will. You rose to the occasion with far greater skill and cunning than I anticipated. Had I known this, I would not have afforded you so much time." He smiled then, sharp and more than a little predatory. "Had you lost your run through the Labyrinth, I would have considered that time a gift. However, seeing as you did not lose, I've decided that I want it back... in full."

A startled laugh worked its way out of her lips. "But I didn't use all thirteen hours; you took some of my time away, remember?" If she hadn't been bargaining with him face to face she would have smiled at his audacity to ask back hours that had never been spent.

"Ah, precious. You still don't understand the nature of the Underground. You did spend thirteen hours there, although I will admit that some of those hours might have passed faster than others," he laughed at her expression of outrage.

She didn't want to say, but the accusation was shouting out of her before Sarah could stop herself. "That's not fair!"

"I don't think it was fair that I lost," Jareth smiled patiently. "Consider us even now."

* * *

_He'd thought about turning the boy into a goblin but ultimately decided against it. Goblins were one of the newer creatures now living in his realm, but they multiplied like rabbits; they certainly didn't need any help from him to maintain their numbers._

_The King sighed; this was proving to be more trouble than he had anticipated. It wasn't like he could just leave the child on its own; human babies were defenseless for years on end. There certainly weren't any convenient humans living in his realm that he could foist the child on, and he doubted any of the immortals would want a son of the race that had killed their fathers._

_"We shall just have to build you your own little colony, my boy," he whispered to the sleeping baby. "I'll have to make sure the next ones I take are older. We'll need some responsible humans to look after you little ones." The child rolled over in his sleep. Quietly the King observed him. "Will you be a Prince in this new land I give to you, or just one among many?" he wondered aloud. "You are the first in an endless line, boy. The others will need guidance; will you give it to them?"_

* * *

"How does one repay time, anyway? It's not like money; I don't have a wad of hours sitting in the bottom of my purse," Sarah reasoned.

"Don't be asinine, Sarah. You spent my time, now I intend to spend yours." Jareth's expression was smooth, nearly emotionless, but she could see his cruel humor lurking in the depths of his eyes. "Thirteen hours, any time and any place I please."

"Whoa," she balked. "You're spreading this out?" The thought horrified her. Spending a straight thirteen hours with the Goblin King sounded bad enough, but not nearly as terrible as him being able to strut into her life whenever he felt like it. If he only spent a few minutes with her at a time it could take weeks or even months to pay him back!

"I like to make the most of what I am given," he smiled.

"More like what you're taking," Sarah all but snarled. "Don't I get a say in this at all?"

Jareth put on a mocking frown, pretending to be sympathetic to her plight. "The debtor usually doesn't, but I'm willing to be fair. I'll spare you in return for your brother," the fact that he said it in such a conciliatory tone made the statement all the more terrible.

"No!" Sarah shouted immediately.

"Well then, it's settled," he shrugged. "Your time in return for the time that was taken from me," there was something altogether too triumphant about the smile he flashed her. But then, why wouldn't there be? He was holding all the damn cards and he knew it.

"Like I have a choice," she muttered angrily. And she didn't really. There were an endless number of things she would be willing to try in order to get out of this arrangement with Jareth, but sacrificing her brother was not an option. And, damn the bastard, he knew it too! It had obviously been his trump card, his ace in the hole. Whatever he was planning, he wanted to make sure that she was a part of it.

Jareth finally released her, patting her arm comfortingly even though his hunter's smile never slipped. "Don't look so glum Sarah. You might not even see me for years," he soothed.

She rubbed her abused limb carefully, knowing that there would be a hand shaped bruise there. "Really?" she perked up at his words. She really should have known better.

"Of course not," he scoffed.

"Bastard!" Sarah made a reach to slap the smirk right off his face, but the snowscape around her was suddenly melting. Dimly, she could hear him laughing at her.

The world dissolved and reformed to more familiar territory. Sarah was sitting at her vanity table again, alone in the comfort of her room. She blinked a few times, disoriented because she could still hear Jareth laughing if she concentrated. Her fists clenched in anger, but she was distracted when she heard the crinkle of paper. Looking down she realized that she had the note clutched in one hand.

It wasn't the same note anymore, though. It had once been pale and said only _'And so it begins'._ Now it was dark, aged, and said, _Until next time…'_ in an ominous looking script.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally chapters six through eight. I apparently had no appreciation for the fine art of allowing a scene finish before ending the chapter.
> 
> Please leave a comment!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing, and no money is being made from this story.


	4. Negotiations in Name Only

To say that Sarah was confused would not have been accurate. She was experiencing an emotion so far _beyond_ confused that she really had no word to describe it. Fate must have been laughing at her, that was the only explanation she could come up with. Or perhaps this was karma paying her back for being so arrogant for so long.

The Goblin King, _Jareth_ , was back and it was clear that he wanted something from her. Sarah couldn't quite figure out what that something was, though. At face value, he claimed her debt to be just a couple of hours, but she wasn't sure she could believe it could ever be that simple where Jareth was concerned. The man thrived on chaos and trickery; he had to have something else up his sleeve or else this was just too simple. There must be some nasty and devious trap set up, just waiting to snap shut so that he could have his revenge.

And yet... hadn't he assured her that he didn't want revenge?

'If there's one thing I've learned about the Goblin King, it's that he doesn't play fair. Who's to say he was telling the truth about not wanting revenge?' Sarah slapped the surface of her vanity table and let out a frustrated grunt. 'But, then again, who's to say he wasn't?'

* * *

_He kept the first dozen or so children with him in the castle. He had found land suitable for their colony and some humans old enough to look after the little ones, but the first dozen were special to him and so he kept them close._

_The very first boy had grown a little and was turning into a fine terror indeed. The King smirked, thinking about what would happen when he turned over those small human lands to the boy. He fully intended to make the child a prince. The number of humans in his kingdom would grow, and they would need a ruler that they could trust. The boy would have to defer to him, of course but, still, the mortals would probably be more comfortable dealing with a human prince rather than an Immortal King._

_It had been difficult to determine how much land to set aside for the mortals. The very concept of mortality was a curious thing in his domain, so each human reacted differently to their new home. Some aged and died like any mortal would, some aged rapidly until they hit full physical maturity and then stopped aging altogether. And others, like his prince, aged almost as slowly as a child of magic would: changes were slight and happened over long periods of time. He was curious to see if a pattern would emerge, if the humans slowly became a new species entirely. With so much magical exposure after living in a world that was practically devoid of magic, strange things were bound to happen. He looked forward to every moment of this ongoing evolution._

_Now if only there was a way he could rub it into the faces of their parents, then he would be truly content._

* * *

Sarah stood and turned away from her mirror, no longer willing to study the confusion written all over her face. She cast wary eyes to her bed; she was unimaginably tired, but hated not knowing if her dreams would be pirated by shadow-men and Goblin Kings again. Was it too much to ask for a normal night's sleep?

Probably. Until she knew what Jareth really had in store for her, there would be no real rest.

Sighing with a bone-deep weariness far beyond her short years, Sarah quietly got ready for bed. 'I wish I could figure Jareth out,' she thought while settling into her covers. 'Maybe I'll get lucky and he'll leave me alone for a while.'

And if she concentrated just a little, she could almost _feel_ him laughing at her for that thought.

* * *

_He had given the boy the lands and the power with which to rule them, and what had the prince done in return? Run off._

' _Little brat,' he thought fondly._

_The prince was much too like himself in some respects, and not quite enough in others. The King made a point to tend to his kingdom, to take care of his people; the boy was hardly ever to be found. To give the lad credit though, he always protected the human colonies when there seemed to be trouble or unrest. When things were running smoothly, however, the arrogant mortal twit made a point of disappearing. And always, the boy caused trouble: offending this noble, encroaching on the territory of that tribe, causing a scene on the main thoroughfare of some city or another._

_The King leaned back into his throne, one leg thrown over the other as his boot tapped a short rhythm against the floor. He laughed with genuine affection as he thought of the boy, wondering where his wayward prince would turn up next._

* * *

She didn't want to dream. _She did not want to_. Of course, when it came right down to it, Sarah had no choice in the matter. Especially when it was Jareth who forced her to dream.

He looked too damn smug about the whole situation, too, she decided.

This dream appeared to be in a private study. The room was comprised of six wood-paneled walls that roughly formed an L. One leg of the L was filled with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that contained volume after volume of leather-bound books. On the far wall of she could see a large fireplace with a green and blue marble mantle. The other leg of the L contained a few cabinets of varying sizes and mysterious contents, a few leather and velvet upholstered chairs, and a finely carved, wooden desk.

Sarah couldn't help but glare at the fine piece of furniture because she couldn't stand looking at the person who was seated behind it any longer. It really was a fine desk, she thought distantly; there were adorable little beasties carved into the legs while beautiful dancing pixies had been shaped around the edges.

Jareth was laughing at her, damn it, and she didn't want to look up. He was _radiating_ arrogance and she was in no mood to acknowledge him. But of course, now she _was_ looking up, because he just had a certain magnetism about him. No matter how much she wanted to, she just couldn't ignore him for very long.

Sarah frowned at him darkly. "Didn't I _just_ get rid of you?" Yes it was rude, but she was frustrated, and it did break the ice, more or less. More so than his mocking laughter, anyway.

Jareth brought a hand to his heart in pretend pain, but his smirk only grew deeper. "I've informed you of your debt, but we must still finalize the terms in a formal contract."

Well that sounded entirely unpleasant. "Why does it feel like I'm getting in too deep?" she questioned cautiously.

He casually waved her paranoia aside, showing just how insignificant he felt her concerns were. "I merely wish to have physical proof that you intend to honor your debt."

"I haven't agreed to anything," she shot back. "In fact, I'm still kind of pissed at how abruptly and thoroughly you've _already_ managed to invade my life. Besides," she continued, ignoring his steadily rising brows, "if I didn't have to sign anything in order to run the Labyrinth, then I'm not signing anything now."

Jareth sighed dramatically, though there was a real undercurrent of frustration that he didn't quite manage to hide with his teasing. "Let me put it to you simply, Sarah. You can either agree to my terms by signing the contract and give up a measly thirteen hours of your time, or I take your brother as collateral."

"He's innocent in all this! Leave Toby out of your schemes," she growled at him. "How long to you intend to hang that sword over my head?"

"As long as it gets you to cooperate," he replied, brutally honest. The fact that he seemed so at ease with making the threat, so unconcerned with Toby's fate, truly terrified her.

Sarah's thoughts whirled, her gut clenching in anxiety when she realized that she really only had one choice. "What are your terms?"

Jareth studied her for a minute longer than was strictly comfortable, then smiled devilishly. "You would think to haggle the details with me when your brother's life might very well hang in the balance? Just sign, Sarah."

"I'm not giving you carte blanche," she snapped. "I love my brother and I refuse to put his life in danger, but I'm not slapping my signature on anything until I know what _exactly_ it is that I'm agreeing to."

"Clever girl," he praised, seeming genuinely pleased with her stubborn behavior. "However, I already outlined the deal earlier. Honestly, Sarah, a man would begin to think you aren't paying attention," his voice was sharp and clear and _he was mocking her again_.

Her eyes narrowed. "You aren't a man," she told him quietly. He wasn't, not really; whatever Jareth was, it was male but not _human_.

He froze in an unnatural stillness as something akin to shock, maybe even _hurt_ , danced through his eyes. "No," he murmured quietly, "I am not a man, and I thank fate that I never was one."

Sarah shied away from the quiet anger in his tone. She'd hit a nerve there and she wasn't eager to explore it. Swallowing, she changed the subject back to their debt negotiations, "So that's it? I just give you thirteen hours?" She tried to read his face for the truth, but the Goblin King was entirely too composed.

Jareth simply smiled, his anger fading. With a flourish, he produced a scroll in one hand, a quill waiting in the other.

It didn't escape her notice that he hadn't actually answered her, but there were only so many times that the man could threaten the wellbeing of her family before she realized that, no matter what he wanted, she would agree. In the end, she didn't really have a choice. And honestly, what was thirteen hours if it meant that her sweet, oddly bright brother could continue living a normal life? She would give up a thousand hours if that's what it took to ensure Toby's safety.

That didn't make it any easier to accept the quill from Jareth. He was watching her intently, his look of concentration running so deep that Sarah felt like she was about to sign the rest of her life away. As she eased the weight of the quill between her own fingers, trying to find the position that felt the least awkward, she struggled as the weight of the world crushed down upon her.

"Just sign your name, Sarah," Jareth soothed. His words implied that everything would be made right with the flourish of a quill. His tone, however, made it very clear that nothing would ever be right again.

Sarah couldn't look at him, didn't want to see whatever emotion was playing across that ethereal face. She took a deep breath and bit her lip, wondering if she was making a huge mistake or if he was just trying to make her uncomfortable for his own sadistic pleasure. Regardless, she'd been run into a corner and she knew it; there was only one way out now.

Sarah scrawled her name in a sloping, inept calligraphy along the bottom of the page.

* * *

_The King grew bored as the years passed._ _The first few hundred years that he had started to exact his revenge upon the humans had been interesting. Watching the mortals bumble their way through his Labyrinth had provided endless entertainment, as had the pain and desperation in their eyes that shone when they came to realize they could never win. He had enjoyed sending them back to their empty lives, bitterly weeping their own foolishness. His plan had worked out quite well: emotionally slaughtering the humans while bolstering the numbers of his own kingdom. It had been utterly wonderful._

_Until now._

_Perhaps it was the monotony of routine that bothered him. Or the fact that, after a few hundred years, he had seen nearly every reaction the mortals could possibly offer. There was simply no challenge to the game anymore. Although, to be fair, his plan hadn't been designed to challenge him, but business in the Labyrinth was truly starting to wear on him._

_For a while the King had tried to distract himself with the mortals he had claimed and, for the most part, the diversion had almost worked. He forged relationships, gained their trust, studied the changes that were slowly being wrought in them from the inherent magic of his world. He even taught them whatever magic they could handle. But those relationships merely formed a new routine, another simple set of endlessly repeating actions that never deviated from their set course._

_The weariness set in hard. It happened to people of his race. The long-lived creatures grew jaded after a time, bored when life stopped offering them anything new. The King was young yet, but his days began to blur together in the hazy fog of disinterest that enveloped his elders._

* * *

A gentle pressure encircled Sarah's throat. It teased her like the playful caress of a lover, there and gone and back again, thrumming to the beat of her heart. Her fingers raced to trail over her neck, but slipped over silky lace and cool metal instead.

"What is this?" she asked as her fingers continued to explore. It was obviously a necklace of some sort, a draping of intricate lace knots with a heavy metal charm that rested just above the swell of her breasts.

Jareth studied her from across his desk. If he felt any triumph or misgivings from what he had done, it didn't show. His face was impassive, emotionless, like a fine porcelain mask. After a few moments, he replied, "It's a gift." His tone was careful, giving nothing away. "You're welcome."

"I'm not exactly thanking you," she said, her attention diverted. Sarah brushed her thumb over the metal charm, studying the elegant Escher's Möbius Strip etched into the surface. "What _is_ it?"

"A simple piece of magic," Jareth smiled. "Just a little something to compel you to honor our agreement."

She eyed him carefully, sensing some trickery but unsure how to combat it. "Isn't that why I signed the contract?"

"I have learned that it never hurts to be prepared where you are concerned," he told her, his smile widening ever so slightly.

"Let me guess," Sarah sighed, "I can't take it off until I've paid you back your thirteen hours?"

Jareth's smile sharpened, but he said nothing.

"I don't know how I'm going to explain this to anyone, particularly my parents," she frowned. "Did you calculate this whole scenario for maximum discomfort?"

His expression never changed but, when he spoke, his tone was quiet. "I've had a long time to think this through, Sarah. I apologize for making you uncomfortable," his gaze flickered to the necklace, something fierce burning in his eyes at the sight of it, "but it was unavoidable."

She wasn't sure how to respond to that, and didn't think he would give a straight answer if she pressed him about it anyway. "How," she cut herself off, shivering when Jareth's brilliant eyes met her own. There was no mistaking the longing that writhed through his dark gaze.

There had always been something magnetic between them, and unspoken _wanting_ that drew them to each other. Sarah could freely admit that Jareth was the most handsome man she had ever met, but he was also the most dangerous. No matter how attractive she found him, he would always have to be handled carefully, because she knew that he could burn her down to nothing without even trying. And somehow, perversely, that knowledge only made him all the more seductive. Like a moth to the flame, she struggled to stay clear of him but inevitably flew into the dangerous light he cast.

Sarah cleared her throat and tried to speak again. "How are we going to keep track of the debt?"

Jareth made a small sweeping gesture with one hand. In much the same way as she'd seen him form his crystals, as though pulling them from the very air, he pulled an hourglass into being. The hourglass was made of pale wood that had been beautifully etched with Celtic knots, the glass was tinted a faint green, and it was filled with fine black sand.

Jareth flipped the glass over and set it down. "Your time is up when the sand runs out," he explained.

His words belied nothing, but he was still throwing her heated looks and it made Sarah uncomfortable. She was too aware of the careful dance between them; too aware that it was wrong on many levels and that the longer she stayed near him, the more likely she was to respond to those looks with some heat of her own. "Are we done here? I'd like to get back home." It was running away, she wasn't proud to admit that, but it was safer than staying.

"I suppose so," he sighed dramatically, "if you must leave. But beware, Sarah: the less time you spend with me, the longer the longer it will take to fulfill your debt."

* * *

_He needed something new, something different—a challenge worthy of his great skills._

* * *

Sarah awoke with a groan, her throat tight. Momentarily disoriented, she glanced around her room. The night was still dark, her clock telling her it was just past midnight. Her post-dream routine was beginning to become all too familiar, something that worried her.

Sarah got out of bed and began to pace the length of her small room as she thought about the agreement she had just made.

Jareth had always had the amazing ability to bother her without even trying, but something about this last encounter put her on edge. The way he had acted tonight, the way he had carried himself... it had been different from the man she had seen in the Labyrinth. He had always frightened her before, had always carried an edge of danger, but tonight he had fair screamed of it.

Sarah paused at that thought. He hadn't done anything worse than usual to make her feel more threatened than expected, but there had been something about him that spoke of… spoke of what? She wanted to say violence or perhaps cruelty, but he was always cruel and violence didn't quite fit. The had been something intense, something that seemed second nature to him, like it had been there all along and she was only now just noticing it. Perhaps he had hidden it from her before. It was not comforting to think that she knew even less about the Goblin King than she had previously thought. She shivered, wondering what new revelations their next meeting could bring.

Sarah paced a little more, feeling like a caged animal, before she spotted an object on her vanity that hadn't been there when she had gone to sleep. Idly, she ran her fingers over the necklace that teased her throat, stepping closer to the table to take a look. Sitting oh-so-innocently in the center of her vanity was the hourglass.

There was just the barest dusting of black sand in the bottom bulb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally chapters nine and ten. Readers of the original story might notice the first major plot change here.
> 
> Please leave a comment!
> 
> Disclaimer: Same old, same old. I own nothing.


	5. The King Approaches

_In his boredom, he had turned to wooing women, to learning the art of seduction. But there was no challenge there; it was too damn easy. The ladies of his kingdom fell at his feet without any coaxing. His beauty and grace were enchanting even to his own kind and, if simple beauty wasn't enough, his status could more than entice them._

_For the first time in his immortal life, the King despaired, fearing there was nothing that could ease his haze of indifference. The days stretched before him, the long unending hours of an immortal life with no focus or drive._

_But then he heard it: a quiet calling. One small voice crying out amid the drone of millions; a voice that wasn't summoning him to perpetuate his revenge._

_Quietly, he slipped into the mortal realm, following the pull to where ever it would take him._

_The hospital ward he appeared in was quiet, which was surprising considering the fact that it was the natal unit he had appeared in. The walls were pale and pasty looking, the floor was made of heavily scuffed tile, and the lights were kept slightly dimmed. One or two dozen newborn babies slept peacefully, twitching occasionally with the very first of many dreams. A few nurses bustled about, oblivious to their ethereal visitor._

_The King paused, confused. The pull was here, there could be no mistaking that. How could such a strong calling have come from a babe? He prowled between the rows of humans, like an angry wolf among innocent little sheep._

_Which one? He searched left and right, high and low, through sleeping girls and boys who looked passed him thanks to his cloaking magic. As a nurse walked straight through him it crossed his mind that perhaps one of the adults had summoned him rather than one of the little ones._

_A wail interrupted his thoughts and he was drawn to it as if it were a Siren's call. The nurse that had strode through him rushed to a pram on the other side of the room, seeing to the child. His walk full of purpose and pursuit, the King stepped beside the nurse to look at the babe._

_The wailing ceased._

_A pair of baby blue eyes stared up at him in wonder. Not through him, as they should have, but at him. So, this was his caller! This tiny little girl had reached out to him in the Underground all the way from here!_

_His chest tightened painfully as he stared at the little one. He reached out a hand to brush against her tiny brow, but the nurse was lifting her, taking her away. With a snarl he made to go after her, but there was a new summons filling him, a call for his Labyrinth. He studied the girl being taken away for a moment longer, then vanished with an angry flash of magic, ready to give hell to whoever had pulled him away from this meeting._

* * *

_It was a gloomy day; gray clouds masked a sky of endless blue, and a stiff autumn breeze whipped fallen leaves through the air. The King went to the mortal world to wander through their parks sometimes, though they were a mockery of nature when compared to his mighty forests. In an interesting way, he found it fun to disguise himself as a young boy so he could study his prey undetected._

_Today, he was a strapping boy of ten, dressed in a black woolen coat with a fire red scarf draped loosely about his shoulders, his pale blond hair pulled into a small ponytail at the back of his neck. With the grace and ease that came to the deadliest of predators, the parentless boy blended into the crowd seamlessly, never drawing unwanted eyes. For a time, it entertained him._

_Further down the path, when his fun began to wane, he sullenly kicked a rock. The problem was that a very inconvenient truth refused to be ignored. 'What is the point in all this preparation if I know, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that I'm always going to win?'_

_For decades, centuries, the King had found himself going through a litany of unending routines, until his mounting boredom had finally given way to depression. And depression was precisely why he found himself, incognito, hiding in the human world when he should have been celebrating one of the biggest holidays of his people. Duty demanded that he be at his castle, entertaining the nobles that would begin to pour in for the gala that night. The thought of all those people though, of the social climbers and the backstabbing 'friends', not to mention all the family, turned his stomach. He just couldn't bring himself to face them right now; he was tired of playing nice around creatures he hated just because he couldn't afford to lose their support in whatever venture he happened to be campaigning. And god, the women! He was sick of his advisory council dragging every eligible woman before him in an effort to get him to finally take a wife and produce an heir. He couldn't weather that mire right now, not when he longed for something true and exciting._

_Something was wrong, had been wrong for a very long time, if he were honest. His emotions were too raw these days, too close to the surface._

_Someone let out a scream of frustration that perfectly mirrored the one he had felt bubbling up from his own lungs._

_Just ahead of him was a little girl, no older than four, who was trying to keep her long hair out of her face. She was no match for the persistent wind, however; every time she pushed her chocolate colored locks behind her ears, Mother Nature would soon whip them back into her face and over her eyes. The girl stomped her tiny foot and let out another frustrated shout. He had almost walked by her before she managed to subdue her hair._

_"Now stop it!" she cried up to the sky, eyes flashing and small fists shaking theatrically._

_He stopped dead, shock paralyzing him; he knew this child! The eyes were different, a hazel green instead of baby blue, but he had felt the pull of her calling before and there could be no mistaking her. How such a small creature could be filled with so much want as to be able to summon an Immortal King, he had no idea._

_"Don't stare at me," she grumbled at him, pushing wayward curls behind her ears._

_"Sorry," he spoke the foreign word quietly, chuckling as the breeze blew her hair about again. He couldn't help but laugh at the angry glare he received for that. There was something reactive, something enchanting about the little girl, and he felt himself come alive as he had not been for ages in her presence. Strangely charmed by the feelings she wrought in him, he pulled the thin leather tie out of his own hair. "Here," he offered, stepping behind her and gently gathering her tresses into a long ponytail. "Better?" the boy-king asked once he had finished._

_She bobbled her head, testing the tie's durability. "Yes," she answered upon reaching her decision. The girl turned around to face him, "But won't your hair blow around now?" Her little brow wrinkled in concern, as if that was the absolute worst fate she could imagine befalling anyone._

_A honeyed voice called out, "Sarah? Baby-doll, where did you go?"_

_He knew the call was for her; with some bone deep instinct, he knew this was fate's way of keeping them apart. "I was going home anyway," he replied to her long forgotten question._

_She dashed up the hill to the woman who had called. "Thank you!" The girl shouted it over her shoulder, something of an empty gesture since she never looked back at the boy who had, indeed, already gone home._

* * *

_He wasn't sure how or even why but the girl, Sarah, was connected to him. When she was angry he became frustrated, when she was happy he felt near euphoric, when she was sad he was overcome with the urge to rage, and when she wanted something he ached to be the one to give it to her._

_The King had only seen the girl twice! What was she to so thoroughly twist him up like this?_

_It was true that in days long gone, magical creatures had been deeply connected to humans. Mortals were made entirely of wanting, and his kind thrived on strong emotions. The children of magic had been able to grant and deny human wishes at will, soaking in the delight and despair that they caused. Sadly, that relationship had come to an end once he had moved his kingdom to the Underground. Aside from himself and the few who lived within the Labyrinth itself, human contact had all but ceased for his people. Occasionally, a mortal could fill with so much longing that they inadvertently sent out a tiny burst of magic, a calling to the one who would best be able to answer it, but it was unlikely that the summoning would reach its destination anymore. And, even if by some miracle it did, it was highly unlikely that the call would be strong enough to lead the recipient back to the caller's origin._

_That girl had done it. With only a few hours of life behind her, she had opened her new eyes and sent out the strongest calling he had ever felt in his long life. And it wasn't just that it had been a strong calling that intrigued him: it was that it had been a strong calling for him. He was a king, he was The King, and yet that tiny breath of life had demanded his presence._

_It was unheard of, to say the least. Most scholars had agreed that the line of The Kings had always been gifted with greater power than the rest and were therefore immune to the call. What could such a small creature want so fiercely that the only one in all of existence with the ability to accommodate her was him? Not even the great Napoleon, who had wanted the entire world to bow before his might, had had the strength to send a calling to the King. But that small slip of a girl, the little Sarah, was summoning him with magic so pure and powerful that it felt like he was being bound in threads and ribbons of gold and sapphire._

_If this was just so that he could tie her hair back, then the Cosmos was mocking him. Depression or no, he had better things to do than play hairdresser for a toddler._

_Something in the back of his mind niggled at him, and he cursed. Toddler though she was, he was still intrigued. Whether she wanted it or not, she now had the focus of a very sharp and shrewd King centered on her. 'Let's see what makes your little heart beat, shall we?' he thought while twirling a small crystal in one hand._

_For a brief moment of clarity, he gave pause, realizing he had gone from avenging his people and defending his honor to spying on a child whose existence was a mere blip compared to his own. Yes, the Great Stars were truly mocking him, but…_

_He caught his young mortal's smile through the reflection of a crystal, and was instantly filled with peace and warmth._

_… it was worth it. For her._

* * *

_He couldn't figure her out. Sarah was an enchanting girl and she shouldn't have been. Not to him, he was above such things. He enchanted mortals, not the other way around._

_The King had gone four years between the first meeting and the second, but now he found he could barely get through the day without having checked on her at least once. His habit had started purely out of curiosity: she was a riddle to him, something that he could sit in a quiet room to think about and try to unravel when he was bored. But he existed in a constant state of boredom, and so his thoughts were consumed by her._

_Why were they connected? Hours were spent pondering that mystery and his frustration only grew when he could reach no answer. So he started checking on her more often. She was already stealing so much of his time, what were a few more hours?_

_Curiosity gave way to studying; perhaps if he knew as much about her as possible an answer would eventually present itself. He created crystals with the sole purpose of watching Sarah, capturing scenes of her for him to play back as many times as necessary before he knew her well enough to draw conclusions. His patient calculation taught him many things: Sarah wrinkled her adorable little nose when she giggled, she liked lemon tea with almond biscuits, her best friend was a stuffed toad named Henry, she liked dressing dolls in brightly colored gowns, she wished that her hair had more curl than wave, she loved it when her mother hugged her, looking into mirrors sometimes frightened her, and…_

_Studying had given way to obsession._

* * *

_She was seven now, and he was extremely aware that this was becoming unhealthy for him. He hadn't seen her in person since that day in the park many years ago, but there was no doubt that he knew her better than he knew himself. And still he had no answer to his riddle._

_The crystal in front of him floated gently on a pocket of air, bobbing occasionally with his tumultuous thoughts. The tiny little Sarah reflected inside the smooth globe was sitting on a swing at a playground, alone. She always seemed to be alone, and it made him feel. Of course, it also made him feel when she was around other people, so either way he couldn't win. Still, it hurt that she lacked companionship right now. He longed to be the steady friend she could always turn to. She was bewitching and delightful, his Sarah._

_She heaved a mighty sigh and kicked at the ground dejectedly. For a moment she appeared close to tears but, instead of crying, she spoke, "Once upon a time there was a little girl, who was sweet and fair, but she never had anyone to play with. She was alone." Sarah kicked at the ground again, drawing swirls in the dirt beneath her swing._

_Suddenly, she perked up, inspiration hitting her. "She spent her afternoons dreaming of a far-off land where fairies and elves danced through ancient forests. She dreamt of the land where Prince Charming lived, waiting to sweep her off her feet, to rescue her from her boredom and loneliness." She consider something, then shook her head. "Not a prince, a king. He was a King of Goblins who would have the power to make her happy no matter what the cost."_

_It was the first time since he had learned to control his magic that he dropped a crystal by accident._

_He was the King of many things, the Lord and Master of all that was Underground, but because of the nature of his dealings with mortals, humans chose only to focus on one of his more negative titles. He had been proud of that in the past, knowing that it would strike fear into the hearts of his enemies. Now he was simply worried._

_Sarah knew him, beyond all logic and possibility she had dreamt of the Goblin King, of him. Apparently their connection ran deeper than he had suspected. But how? How was any of this possible?_

_Another mysterious layer was added to the puzzle that made up the young child._

* * *

_Shock had not prevented him from keeping tabs on her. If anything, it only made him watch her more often. She told the best stories and, despite the inspiration that had struck on that swing a year ago, she had never mentioned a king again. Her stories were different now, happy; tales of danger and adventure, things to keep a young imagination occupied._

_But there came a day in her eighth year when he found her curled up in the back of her closet, crying. His heart beat uncomfortably, his silky tongue stuck even as he longed to soothe her._

_In the darkness of that tiny closet, she continued her abandoned story. "… and when the girl was sad because her parents didn't love each other anymore, he made it rain so that she wouldn't have to cry alone," she hiccuped on a sob. "And he made the flowers grow so that when she was exhausted of being sad, she would have something to smile about."_

_So he did, because she'd asked, because the sickly feeling in his chest demanded he grant these wishes. He gave her days when the wind howled and thunder crashed and rain came down in great flooding torrents. His theatrics were the best foul mood companions anyone could ask for. And when she finally seemed to perk up he grew little purple flowers on the trellis underneath her window, hoping that they might calm her with their peaceful scent._

_He felt Sarah made it through that period of her life a little easier than he did. His comfort was all around her, but he was never satisfied with what he gave. Nothing was ever enough. He wanted to be there for her in person, to be able to wipe her tears away and make her smile. Instead, he had to content himself with sending bad weather and flowers. It had been what she had asked for, after all, what she had wanted, so he had forborne and simply done his best to fulfill her requests. She seemed happy enough with the result._

_The fact that he wasn't didn't really matter._

* * *

_For five years, Sarah and her father lived in relative peace, but the King could see the strain that her parents' divorce was putting on her; she had loved her mother dearly and had so little to remind herself of the woman. Her father'd had a tough time of the solitary life at first, but had found his luck once he had started courting again. The King would have wished the man many happy years with his new Lady if it weren't for the fact that Sarah hated her. And who could blame the girl, really? She had had the undivided attention of her father for so long that she wasn't used to having to share his time, and with another woman no less!_

_He could see the explosion coming a mile off. Her father had no intention of letting this woman slip through his fingers; he was courting for marriage. But Sarah didn't want to believe that there was anyone as perfect for him as her mother had been, so she held this newcomer in contempt._

_Sarah was thirteen when he felt the familiar pull of her summons. And oh, how he wanted to go to her, but until he figured out what connected them he had decided to keep his distance. He pulled one of his crystals from the air and found her with an ease that less than a century ago would have frightened him. Sarah was stomping through the woods behind her house, kicking rocks and snapping twigs. She was a fine Fury, an angry and vindictive soul to match his own._

_"…and when the girl was angry because her father was marrying the worst woman in the entire world, the Goblin King sent her a companion, a puppy, so that someone would always love her when he could not be there." He chose to ignore the fact that he never was there. If he focused on it he would be forced to rectify the situation, and he had a feeling she wasn't old enough to handle meeting him yet._

_So he created her puppy, a little mop of a dog made of friendliness and affection; a friend for as long as she wanted him. She named him Merlin, after the great wizard, and for a while she was all smiles again._

_But it couldn't last long. Married couples had a zest for procreation._

* * *

_Her next calling came a year later, and he had to admit that he was surprised it hadn't come sooner._

_Sarah was in her room this time, mangling an afghan blanket in her clenching and twirling hands. "…and when the girl was furious because her wicked stepmother was having a baby, he promised to create a spell that would bring them together. He would twist his land and build a mighty army so that no one could ever tear them apart."_

_He carefully pondered her words. Twist his land and build a mighty army? He had already done that! How could she know these things?_

_He had nothing to give her this time and it made him growl in annoyance. She had asked for him, in a round about way, but he simply couldn't grant her wish. This was a dangerous game she was starting to play: she had no idea what she was asking for, and the King was not widely known for his compassion. If she persisted in her wishes for him, he would not have the strength to deny her. And he was no saint; she would have to take him, darkness and all._

_His little Sarah didn't have a clue what she was setting into motion._

* * *

_He watched her suffer through the first few months after her half-brother was born. She couldn't adapt; she hadn't even accepted the presence of her step-mother yet, so there was no way she could grow accustomed to the baby. Her temper ran high and he found himself constantly frustrated, courtesy of their empathic connection. He was restless, didn't know what to do to make things better for her._

_But he didn't have to pace for too long. As usual, his clever little girl gave him the answer._

_"…and when the girl was enraged because her little brother was a spoiled brat and no one paid attention to her anymore, the doting King gave her The Words." Really, who was he to argue when, for the second time in only a few months, she asked for him?_

_So he gave her The Words; words that had struck such fear in her people, they had once been outlawed by penalty of death. He put them into a book for her, gave her both the good and the bad and waited to see what she would think of her Goblin King now. He could only hope she would say the one thing that could bring them together._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally composed of chapters eleven and twelve. I thought about lumping thirteen in as well, but it sort of broke up the pure Jareth of this chapter.
> 
> I know I don't really have a set time for updating this story, though I do try to get new chapters up at least once if not twice a week. However, with final projects, final exams, and the holidays upon us, I thought it would be fair to warn you all that the next few chapters may come out a little more staggered than usual. Animation is a very time-consuming major at the best of times.
> 
> I have no idea why this chapter is double noting, sorry. Ignore the chapter one notes, if you please.


	6. Those Who Do Not Remember The Past...

Up until this point, Sarah might have written off her dreams as the product of stress or an active imagination with nothing to focus on. The haunting sense of realism that accompanied her dreams would have been a bit hard to dismiss, but she would have tried.

The necklace, however, was a little damning.

There was a strange duality about her current situation. It had been easy to believe everything was real while it was happening but then brush it aside once she woke up. However, maintaining her dance was a little more difficult when those two realities began to meet. And with one intricately designed necklace and hourglass, meet they did. The worlds were starting to bleed together.

For so long Sarah had wished for something beyond the life she was getting, but now living, breathing fantasy was knocking at her door and she wasn't sure she could handle the price it was demanding. Thirteen hours, with him.

She had been a fanciful little girl, full of dreams and wonder. Back when the days had been long and lonely she had filled them with enchanted dreams, a shield against an uncaring world. Her stories had usually involved elves or dwarves and had run a plot that sounded suspiciously like Robin Hood. But when things went wrong, when she had been angry or hurt, she had always taken refuge in tales of being swept away by mysterious princes who would care for her as her family or friends could not.

So Jareth made her uneasy. He was more powerful and charismatic than any princeling she'd ever dreamt about, but he was also more driven and far more dangerous. The Labyrinth had been everything she had expected, but the Goblin King himself had been a wild card. He was elusive and unpredictable, shrewd and conniving, and she hadn't expected to respond to him in the way that she had. It wasn't just that he was attractive, though there was no denying that he was bursting with an ethereal beauty. The problem was that he had been the answer to her every question, as though her every dream had been carefully inspected for the best details and then put together to form one, single man. And she wasn't too proud to admit that it was frightening to have everything she'd ever wanted in one package. He was mystery and magic and desire woven into a shape she could not understand: a wild beast whose motivations and actions were completely unfathomable.

Years had passed and she still didn't know how to read him.

Why did he want thirteen hours from her?

It was childish, but to avoid Jareth just a little while longer, Sarah had been prepared to stay awake for the rest of the night. However, she quickly found that, while her mind was in agreement, her body was not. Weariness swept over her limbs and her eyes refused to stay open. With a defeated sigh, she climbed back into her bed and sent out a quiet prayer for a reprieve from the Goblin King.

Her prayer was duly ignored.

* * *

He stood proud and menacing, drenched in the darkest of blacks. Magic swirled and glittered in the air around him, much the same way that his cloak swirled in the breeze coming from the open doors at his back. His face was angular but somehow delicate: a mouth twisted into a smirk, a narrow nose, mesmerizing eyes, and eyebrows that swooped above pale colors that didn't look like any makeup Sarah had ever seen. He titled his head to the side, and his golden-silver hair became accentuated by the shear darkness of the collar it was now draping over.

The man was certainly Jareth, if only the echo of his memory. Sarah studied the scene of their first meeting as she had not been able to when it had actually happened.

She hadn't realized how piteous she had sounded, how cowed and trembling she'd been at first. Or how completely unaffected she'd been by his other-worldliness until he'd stepped so very close to her on that orange-sand hill. The fifteen year old gave a jump when his voice suddenly spoke in her ear, and Sarah knew from that point on she had not only been fighting him, but her attraction for him as well.

* * *

_She had instantly become obsessed with his book. It had so closely mirrored some of her own stories that it would have been nearly impossible for her not to like it. But she hadn't called for him yet, and so he waited. But the King had never been a patient man; he had begun to follow her in the form of his familiar, a swift and silent predator of the night, a noble white owl. She read and acted and played but never said the words that were most important, and it was beginning to drive him mad._

_Studying Sarah from afar had not given him any useful insights about their connection; it had merely made him crave her companionship. When she had directly asked for him for the first time, he had been willing to ignore it: she was simply a young girl who had been left alone a few times too often. The second time she had asked had been too much. He wanted her near, and he was not strong enough to deny her wishes again. Perhaps they were bonded by a mutual desire to ease their loneliness?_

_It took Sarah a few months, but she finally said something. "Someone take me away from this awful place!" She had shouted it melodramatically while clutching a stuffed bear to her chest. They weren't exactly The Words, but he had already waited too long, so they were close enough._

_By the time he'd decided that, however, she had already moved on, angrily telling one of her stories to her brother. And then, after the most painfully long months of his life, she finally, finally, said The Words._

_But not for herself._

_Months of careful planning, calculating, watching, longing, and she wasted The Words on her sniveling baby brother! He could have screamed at the misstep. What the hell could he want her brother for? He had not just spent the last decade and a half watching this girl so that he could dole out another tedious bit of his revenge against the humans._

_In the back of his mind, in the dark recess that was always at one with his Labyrinth, the very part of him that had conceived of that nightmarish twisting of corridors and reality, a plan began to form. Perhaps this was not a total loss; after all Sarah would still have to come to his kingdom in order try and win back her brother._

_But their first meeting after so many years had gone oddly. From the beginning he had set himself up as the villain, but she needed to understand that he was just as dangerous as he could be loving. Her terror had aggravated him, but she had quickly discovered her spine of steel and he couldn't have been more thrilled._

_Yet something was still off._

_Sarah never once questioned how he already knew her name and she never seemed to make the connection between the Goblin King she had cried out to as a child and the man who stood before her. It was like the girl had selective memory failure._

_He wouldn't be deterred, however. She was in his domain now, and he was determined to keep her there._

* * *

The pressing darkness of the oubliette had been terrifying, but she would have gladly turned back around if she had known that he was only a few paces ahead of her. Sarah frowned as she watched her younger self ambling forward. Of course, she knew, that wasn't really true. As much as she loved to hate Jareth, she had enjoyed bantering with him; being able to clash on an intellectual level had been exciting.

She hated herself for it, but as he stood there threatening Hoggle, she felt a small thrill go down her spine. It only increased when he turned his attention on the younger echo Sarah. His stride was a lazy stalking, something she hadn't noticed before. He used one arm to lean against the tunnel wall and towered over the girl. When she had been in that position she had thought he merely meant to intimidate her with his height, but he was too close, leaning too casually, and there was something dangerous in the quiet energy that surrounded him.

"And you Sarah. How are you enjoying my Labyrinth?" The words were the same, but the inflections sounded wrong. It was still quiet and mocking, but also low and… husky? He hadn't said it like that, had he?

But her response was still the same. If the other her had noticed, she did a wonderful job of hiding it. His own response was slightly different than she had remembered it, a mocking subtraction of hours and angrily sending the cleaners after her. The actions remained but he seemed more elated than mocking and more gleeful than angry. Could she have really misjudged the situation so much?

* * *

_He had hoped that the oubliette would be the end of her wanderings, but he hadn't counted on her ability to charm aid out of the dwarf. It seemed that he was doomed to see all thirteen hours come to a close before he could have his Sarah._

_But there wasn't enough patience left in him for that. He had waited long enough already! There had to be some way to turn the situation to his advantage. There always was, of course; it was his kingdom, therefore he made the rules._

_"It's a piece of cake," she had announced arrogantly. He should have been chagrined, mortals three times her age had found his Labyrinth to be an insurmountable challenge, but instead he was filled with pride. His girl was a spitfire, and not to be taken lightly. She couldn't navigate with anywhere near the ease he possessed, but it delighted him to know that Sarah was closer to him than any who had come before her. A cut above all those bumbling humans._

_He responded with the very reason he had arranged this visit in the first place; he wound his clock forward, speeding through several hours of her time. Impatience was not his sole motivator. There had been others that had gotten this far before, but none he was so intent on keeping, and none with so much ease. Granted it had taken her several hours, but she seemed to waltz through his challenges with immunity and it made him uneasy._

_"That's not fair!" she shouted, outraged. No, it wasn't, but playing fair didn't win the game. The Goblin King was playing for keeps, and nothing as silly as fairness was going to stand in his way._

_The cleaners had been a spur of the moment decision, but he had wanted to see how she would rise to the challenge; the locked passageway had just been for kicks. No harm would have come to her, and if she managed to find a way passed the whirling menagerie of blades, then at the very least she would have been lead away from the shortest path._

* * *

The fifteen year old was dressed in a tight bodice fitted over sparkling white skirts that billowed gently down to the ground. Her hair was pulled away from her face and set into loose curls that twisted through two silver clasps. She wandered between the dancers in the ballroom, lost. Lost, alone, and much too young to be there. A child thrown into an adult world that she was not ready for. The other dancers were dressed in dark and decadent attire that seemed to reflect their general depravity, but she flitted about, a brief flash of blinding innocence looking for something elusive.

And then he was there, dancing with her. Dressed in a regal outfit that looked as though he had made it from the night sky: blue velvet studded with magic and precious jewels. His hair was streaked with blue to match his clothing and his skin practically glowed with power. Jareth was in his element here, looking every inch the elegant King.

Sarah watched him twirl her about the dance floor. She had learned to waltz in those arms, she realized. It was terrifying to remember how close he had been to winning at this very point, how close she had been to forgetting everything. But god, his words had been so haunting, so romantic! It had spun her head.

If it hadn't been for that clock announcing the twelfth hour she had a feeling that she never would have broken away from his embrace.

* * *

_He could admit that he had acted out of jealousy, but the dwarf had spent more time with Sarah than he had, even received a kiss from those lovely rose lips of hers! The peach had only been intended as a distraction but that kiss had sent something angry coursing through him. Why show so much kindness to the dwarf when the King was the one providing the fantasy? Was this not enough; did she need more? Something more in line with her romantic streak, perhaps? So he set up the ball, fueled by her dreams of Princes._

_But it hadn't turned out quite right. He was so used to twisting things that the occupants of the party had a decidedly darker edge than he had intended. Still, it wasn't too far off._

_He watched her meander up and down the great steps, drinking in the sight of her. Somewhat childish, he decided, he certainly would have gone with something a little darker, a little more revealing, but still she was a vision of beauty to him. He evaded her for a while, trying to entice her, heighten her excitement. But she looked so lovely and lost that he couldn't keep himself away for too long._

_His words had been soft and enchanting, a plea for her to see the tender side of him. He could treat her like the most beloved of treasures if she would let him. The King had twirled her around the great room, singing words of endless devotion, but she didn't seem to understand. Oh she heard the words, and undoubtedly she thought them romantic, but she didn't seem to know that he was singing to her. For her. And not just an overplayed ballad or an over recited sonnet, but words that came from deep within. From his heart. Only for her._

_But she didn't known how to react and was quickly becoming overwhelmed. Her eyes locked with his for a moment, and he could see her confusion and her fear. He didn't want to believe that she wasn't ready for this yet, not when she was so close. But looking back at him were the haunted eyes of a child who was seeing too much, too soon. That was the only reason why, when she managed to tear herself away from him, he let her go._

* * *

Out of everything that had happened to her in the Labyrinth, it was still her final confrontation with Jareth that unnerved Sarah the most. She had been so desperate, not only fighting the clock but the Escher Room's very design. As Toby crawled across ceilings, she ran down walls. Then he was on the floor, but she on the other wall now, always on a plane that didn't connect close enough to his own.

And watching it all was Jareth, striding over upside-down staircases and leaning against doorways. The hair on the back of Sarah's neck stood on end listening to his haunting melody. She only vaguely recalled him having said anything at all. Certainly not this. This was an unholy combination of love song and mourning dirge. It was beautifully sad.

But the words… Had he really said that?

And suddenly it all made sense. Sarah had never understood his final lines to her; it hadn't seemed like something her villain should have said. "Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave," he had pleaded, and if she hadn't been trying to remember her own lines she would have been bewildered. What reason did he have to ask for her love? But it fit together now: his closeness, the tone of voice he had used, the ways he had tried to serenade her, and how he had offered her her dreams. The things that had confused her tonight, things that she remembered slightly different, they had happened, she just hadn't noticed them the first time around, because she'd only been fifteen. She was incapable of understand what he was asking of her because she had never felt anything like it before.

What reason did he have to ask for her love? Because she already had his.

But the fifteen year old Sarah Williams plowed on heedlessly. She boldly said the words that would ensure her victory against the nefarious villain. Now she realized that it wasn't a triumph of good over evil, but a young girl ripping out the heart of a man. His final expression was filled with such heartache, such longing, that her own heart clenched in sympathy. She had done this to him, without even a second thought, and without realizing she held his affections, she had defeated him with softly spoken cruelty.

"You have no power over me."

* * *

_She hadn't understood any of it, he realized with subdued horror. It had just been a game, another story for her to be the champion of. Sarah either thought nothing of his feelings or had never understood them at all. Such cruelty he had suffered at her hands, not only loosing at his own game, but having his heart flung back like a trifling matter._

_He had seen her home, had to make sure she made it back safely, and had stayed just long enough to be certain her parents had come back from their evening out. Now, he was lying on the wrecked floor—or perhaps it was a wall—of the Escher Room, trying to figure out where, exactly, things had gone wrong._

_Perhaps he had fallen into the role of the villain too well, but he had never pretended to be anything he was not. Or perhaps she had come to the misguided conclusion that his affections were not genuine, merely a trick to distract her._

_He paused._

_That was just it, wasn't it? Sarah hadn't realized that it was never about the baby. He slapped a hand over his face in frustration. And why would she have? He had never given her any reason to think he had absolutely no interest in the wailing Toby. A sigh burst out from between his lips, and he moved the hand from over his eyes to run through his wild hair. He had made a mess of things, he realized, utterly screwed them up. The situation was hardly salvageable._

_But he would still try._

_If nothing else, Jareth was a persistent king. All he needed was a plan._

* * *

For the first time in several days, Sarah did not jolt out of bed upon awakening. She simply laid there, swaddled in heavily wrinkled blankets, contemplating.

On an instinctual level she had known that spending any amount of time with Jareth would be hard; he made her uneasy and she was never sure what to expect from him. But after the revelation that her dreams had provided her, she now she knew it would be even more difficult. The man loved her! Or, at least, he had. And that was the problem, wasn't it? She had learned so much about the haughty Goblin King, but still knew nothing about Jareth. It was entirely possible that he no longer felt anything for her at all, and no one could blame him after she had so blindly ripped his heart out. Had his love turned into hate? Passion was so forthcoming in both emotions; it would not be hard to make the transition from one to the other. Either way, she wouldn't know how to act around him.

Sarah rolled over, further tangling herself in the sheets. She felt awful.

In the course of her nineteen years she had dealt with the messy business of rejecting advances from boys who had crushes on her, but that was something small. They had been asking for afternoons together, time to decide if they enjoyed her company as much as they did her beauty. It wasn't about love; hell, it was hardly even about like!

But someone had _loved_ her. How often did that truly happen in one lifetime? And she hadn't even been polite in her rejection because she hadn't realized what he was offering. He had spoken of devotion, of eternity, and she couldn't have understood because all she had known was fleeting interests and frequent breakups. How painful it must have been for him, to have so much power at his command and yet be so powerless to keep the one thing he wanted. Briefly, Sarah thought of the ballroom; he had been so sweet then.

Now she felt downright terrible.

There had to be a way to make amends. "Yeah," she snorted to herself, "I'll just go up to him and apologize. 'Wow Jareth, I'm sorry that I never realized you were head over heels for me, but I was a whiny little snot who was completely oblivious. I get it _now_ , though. So, would you like to grab a coffee together sometime?' God, I'm such an idiot!"

"But a delightful idiot, nonetheless," Jareth's voice rumbled playfully from the foot of her bed.

Sarah steeled herself for a quick look. There, leaning casually against her tiny little footboard, was the King himself, looking decidedly displaced. He was clothed more simply than she'd ever seen him, in a frock-style shirt—which was something new for him, she realized; most of his shirts had been open-chested until damn well near the waist—and a pair of sinfully tight black breeches with a pair of equally black boots.

Even in such plain ware he looked like royalty. The rest of the room didn't match him—and that was simply the way it had to be said; it wasn't quite right to say that the _King_ didn't match the _room_. For a moment Sarah wondered why her thoughts were defending his position in her world.

Her thoughts where abruptly terminated when his questing gaze settled on her skimpy pajama shirt. She shifted uneasily, burrowing a little to hide behind her blankets. "What are you doing here?"

He gave her an amused look and pointed at the hourglass sitting quietly on her vanity table. "Have you forgotten so soon?" A few powdery crystals of fine black sand gently fell through to thicken the dusting in the bottom bulb.

"You're in my room," Sarah panicked, eyes widening.

Jareth raised an elegant brow. "It would seem so, yes."

"No, no. You don't get it. You can't be here!" She cast wary eyes around the room, looking hunted.

He frowned at her. "It's well within my rights, Sarah. Anytime, anywhere, that was the deal." He cocked his head to the side, causing the shimmering fabric pinned at his throat to ripple slightly.

"Yes, but it's," she cast a quick glance at her clock, "eight in the morning, and you are _in my bedroom_. What if my Dad comes in, or _Karen_? This could get me into a lot of trouble! And couldn't you have at least waited until I was decent before you decided to harass me?"

"Afraid someone will jump to conclusions?" He laughed. "You needn't worry; you're the only one who can see me right now. And as for your current state of… dress," his eyes raked over what little she hadn't been able to cover, blazing briefly when they landed on the necklace, "well, it's simply a hazard of our agreement."

She gritted her teeth. "What do you want?" she asked lowly.

"Ah," he shook a velvet covered finger at her playfully, "now _that_ would be telling." His laughter rang out, loud and clear, but Jareth had already vanished in a burst icy magic.

Sarah shivered. 'So,' she decided, 'this is what my life has become. I am now at the mercy of his Royal Majesty's whims.' She got out of bed and quickly pulled out some clothes from her dresser. For a moment she paused. He was gone but he could come back, and she had no desire to show him any more 'hazards of the agreement'. True, he could probably show up in the bathroom just as easily as he had in her bedroom, but the distance made her feel a _little_ safer.

Fully dressed in jeans and a sweater, Sarah went down the stairs two at a time. She wasn't usually a breakfast person but she hadn't eaten well the night before; she subsequently found herself starving this morning. As expected, Toby was sitting at the kitchen table, nearly asleep in his bowl of cereal, and Karen was bustling about, cleaning something that was probably already spotless.

"Good morning," the older woman said without turning around.

"G'morning," Sarah returned stiffly. They were still adversaries of sorts, though their actions towards each other spoke more of routine than any actual malice. She had tried to get along with the woman, but it seemed that they were just too different. Shaking the thoughts from her head, she reached across the table for the cereal box.

"Sarah?" This time Karen did turn around.

She was hit with an immense sense of dread. "Yeah?"

Her Stepmother fixed her with a confused look. "Who was that laughing a minute ago?"

* * *

_He was shameless, he could admit it, but the few hours of sleep that he had granted Sarah had been torturous for him. Chivalry demanded that he apologize for taking her by such surprise, but… Well, he had just enjoyed seeing her in that small blue shirt too much. Now she was dressed in faded jeans and a red and white sweater, and he was lamenting the loss of her cream colored skin. Such beauty should never be covered!_

_Poor Sarah had her mouth hanging open in the most adorably confused expression. It seemed she was realizing that just because no one could see him didn't mean they couldn't hear him._

_His intentions were not to drive her insane, merely to keep her as unbalanced as he had felt over the past few years. At times he would be tender, compassionate, even giving; he would romance her, going to whatever extreme he had to in order to secure her heart. But he would also be a nuisance; mischief was simply in his nature, and he could not abstain from it._

_Jareth hadn't been completely honest when he had told her that this arrangement was not about revenge. Some part of him wanted her to pay for the endless frustration he'd suffered, for the pain she'd dealt him. A larger part of him loved her as he'd never loved anything, but Jareth was nothing if not a slave to his innate sense of revenge._

_Sarah closed her mouth and clenched her jaw nervously. "I, uh… must have left my radio on when I went into the bathroom," she managed to lie without stuttering. He wondered if she would always be able to cover his presence with flimsy excuses. 'I'll just have to make myself a bit more obvious then.' It would be interesting to see how she would react to being backed into a corner. He had no intention of keeping her family in the dark. Of course, he couldn't tell them the absolute truth, but he was going to make certain they knew that Sarah was being courted._

' _I'll have to pace myself,' he realized. Thirteen hours wasn't really all that long when he thought about it. Although, he smirked, thirteen hours of her time didn't quite equate to thirteen hours of his. Dear Sarah was just going to have to figure that out the hard way._

* * *

'That rotten little cheat!' Sarah fumed, but it brought no relief so she tried again. 'That dirty, no-good _jerk_!' No, she was definitely still angry.

Karen watched her suspiciously as she continued to mutilate the cereal in her bowl. Obviously the older woman hadn't believed her fib. 'Yeah,' she thought darkly, 'like I'm hiding some guy in my room, Karen.' She chose to ignore the fact that, _technically_ , she had been doing just that.

Angrily, she started shredding her toast into little strips.

It seemed Jareth was already getting the most out his time. How could someone who was probably hundreds, if not _thousands_ of years old be so childish?

Sarah shook her head. 'No,' she thought, 'I can't let myself fall in to thinking that.' While it was true that his Highness seemed to have developed a playful streak a mile wide, it didn't change the fact that underneath his foppish exterior was a dangerous man. He was just trying to distract her; whatever he had planned was big, and Sarah had no intention of follow him into it blindly. Let him have his stupid fun, but when it came time for the real fight, she would be ready.

'Will you be able to resist him, knowing now that he loved you?' a small part of her whispered. Her fingers paused their destructive work. Whether she had wanted it to happen or not, this morning's revelation had changed her view of Jareth. Before, he had been something wild and pretty, something she could gawk at but never have. Now that she was older and could see the Labyrinth from a different angle, a new awareness had filled her. Jareth was man, or rather male, seeing as he wasn't human. He was still beautiful and deadly, but he was no longer unattainable. And that, unfortunately, worked in his favor. It was easy to defeat an enemy that wouldn't fight with their full strength because they were blinded by love.

Sarah groaned. She wasn't really sure how she felt about Jareth yet. Her emotions were just too conflicted where he was concerned. The days ahead of her were going to be hard, she realized. Without knowing what game he was playing, she was just going to have to do her best to stay emotionally distant from him. If she didn't allow feelings to develop, then he couldn't play the romance card in order to win whatever it was he was playing at.

Karen gave her another calculating glance. "So, does this radio of yours have a name?"

* * *

_Jareth gazed deep into one of his crystals, fighting the urge to laugh; if he hadn't been surrounded by the lords and ladies of The Court he would have indulged himself. It seemed Sarah's pathetic lie was as transparent to her-stepmother as it was to him. He smiled sharply._

_The young lord to his left eyed him curiously. "Your Majesty?" the boy questioned softly._

_Jareth sighed to himself, letting his expression go blank._

_He detested the roundabout courtesies that dictated when The Court had to be in session. Mostly the nobles just irritated him, but it was occasionally refreshing to see old friends, and he was certainly eager to hear from the voice of his people. Without The Court it was nearly impossible for him to know the absolute ins and outs of his kingdom. While it was true that_ nothing _in the Labyrinth escaped his notice, it was not possible to keep an eye on the entire Underground without assistance. He merely wished that he could have more control over when The Court convened. But, of course, it was considered a tradition for him to pay his respect to the noble houses by allowing them to choose when The Court met. And Jareth was many things, but a disrespectful King was not one of them._

_Court was always held at the capital city of K'shent Mier, in the opulent castle that Jareth had had commissioned when he was still but a Prince. He always enjoyed staying in that particular castle: it was peaceful when compared to the chaos of the Labyrinth, and it had always felt the closest thing to home outside of his father's ancestral land. However, presiding over a Court of beings who were older than the Roman Empire yet still squabbled like children did diminish his joy somewhat. Especially when he would rather be helping Sarah get into more trouble._

_The young lord subtly tried to move so that he could see what was reflected in his King's crystal._

_Jareth gave Sarah one last longing glance before voiding the image, knowing that he would have to retrieve the tail-end of that conversation when he was alone. The lordling had enough decency to look slightly embarrassed, though mostly just curious._

_Jareth was keenly aware that he walked a fine line. In Sarah's world, away from prying eyes, he was free to do as wished, but in his own world he needed to guard his personal life jealously. The last thing he needed was for the nobility to catch wind that he was showing interest in a female. He had only just gotten the advisory council to stop hounding him about finding a wife; he did not need them interfering with the plans he had for his delightful little mortal._

_Things had ended badly last time because he had been rushed, and he was determined not to make the same mistake twice. He would rather deal with The Court's anger at not knowing he was pursuing his intended when the deed was done, especially if the alternative meant potentially losing Sarah again. Somehow, he knew that a second rejection would strip him of all sanity._

_The lords and ladies continued to argue, as they had since the dawn of time. At least his human Prince had had the decency to show up this time, he noted dully._

_Boredom eating at him already, Jareth slumped in his seat and summoned a glass of wine, knowing that the rest of the day was going to be miserable at best. Night could not descend fast enough._

* * *

Sarah would have bet anything in her possession that her eyes were nearly popping out of her skull. "There isn't-… I'm not," she stuttered out in near panic. The last thing she needed was her stepmother thinking she had a secret boyfriend! Belatedly realizing that her babbling was only confirming the older woman's suspicions, Sarah straightened and began again. "Karen, you don't _honestly_ believe," but her stepmother cut her off with a disbelieving wave of her hand.

Obviously, she _did_ believe.

Toby was giggling into his breakfast like it was the funniest thing in the world, while Karen leaned against the counter to fix her stepdaughter with the weirdest combination of approval and dismay. "Sarah, at your age, I'd be worried if you _weren't_ dating," the older woman began, "but don't you think your father and I should meet the young man before you start bringing him into the house?"

Sarah tried to protest once more, but Karen would have none of it.

"I know at your age it's all about the romance and the adventure, and I understand that you're probably looking for a little 'danger' to keep things exciting. Honestly, I'm happy that you've found someone you like to spend time with, but I really don't think it proper, or _decent_ , for you to be alone in your room with a boy that no one has even met." She fixed the girl with a look of such giddy, maternal pride that Sarah could barely find it within herself to argue.

 _Finally,_ Karen was opening up to her, was proud of something that she had done, and she couldn't take credit because it was only a misunderstanding. 'Damn you Jareth,' Sarah thought. 'If I take advantage of the situation I know you'll find a way to turn things against me; but if I don't …'

Karen was actually _smiling_ at her. How often had that happened in all the years they'd known each other?

'Damn you Jareth.'

* * *

 _The meetings had dragged on at a painfully slow rate and nothing had been accomplished. Jareth always had the vague fear that this session would be the one that lasted a decade—an agonizing punishment for an impatient Immortal. The nobility hadn't even gotten beyond land squabbles and boarder skirmishes yet, to say_ nothing _of_ substantial _grievances!_

 _Under normal circumstances, nothing came before the safety and wellbeing of his kingdom but then, when had anything involving Sarah been normal? Jareth could feel the crushing weight of the limited time he had with her; he had only a precious few hours to completely turn their relationship around. Granted, their agreement allowed him to spend her time at his leisure, but there was only so much of it, and spreading it too thin would give Sarah far too much time to rally against him. If his little human was left alone for too long, she would no doubt jump to all the wrong conclusions._ Again.

_Jareth heaved a sigh, gratefully entering his suite of rooms. Night had finally settled over the Underground, but it would still be a while before he could go to Sarah. Sometimes, he cursed the discrepancies in time between their realms; yet another element that conspired to keep them apart._

_With a groan, he settled himself into one of the plush chairs scattered around his sitting room, slumping deep into the velvet cushions while throwing a leg over the armrest. The problem with being in K'shent Mier was that the meetings bored him to death, but when they were done for the day there was rarely anything else to do. Boredom consumed him no matter what and, until the sun fell in the mortal realm, he could not occupy himself with his Lady._

_A sudden thought struck him and he perked up. He could do the next best thing._

_Quickly he summoned the crystal he had been toying with earlier that day. With any luck Sarah's stepmother had given her a hard time._

_Several minutes later, Jareth couldn't believe his luck._

_The crystal lay, smooth and shining, in his palm, and he gazed into it blankly while thinking on the conversation he'd only just witnessed._

_It was simply too good to be true._

_A wicked smile bloomed over his features. This was perfect, absolutely perfect!_

_The Karen-creature believed Sarah had a secret lover, which meant two things: first, he was definitely making his presence felt, and second, his girl was in a wonderful dilemma. If she wanted the continued approval of her stepmother then she had to carry on with the 'illusion' that she had a suitor. Of course, she had no mortal boy, but he would be more than happy to help her convince her parents she was having a spot of romance... For a price._

_But those particulars could wait until tomorrow, for tonight he already had something planned._

* * *

Sarah threw herself on her bed, landing in a boneless heap near the pillow. "What a rotten day," she groused into the comforter. Karen had not let up one bit, was constantly asking questions that she had no answers to, refusing to believe her when she tried denying the existence of her 'boyfriend'. The more she argued, the more her stepmother gushed. Right now she wanted nothing more than to scream, long and loud, into her pillow but she couldn't bring herself to move from her fetal position.

'I'm going to strangle Jareth the next time I see him,' Sarah thought detachedly. He had never said anything about involving other people in this whole snafu when he had listed his terms. 'Of course,' she thought bitterly, 'he didn't really didn't really give me a chance to read the contract.'

Thoughts of the contract had plagued her all day, horrible ideas festering in the absence of certainty. When it came right down to it, Sarah had no idea what she had signed away and no way of finding out without asking Jareth. She was bold enough to demand it but, knowing the trickster as she did, she had no doubt that his answers would be less than truthful.

She glanced over at the hourglass, confirming the small amount of time that had already been paid. Hopefully Jareth would honor his part of the agreement and leave her alone after the sand finally ran out.

It was weird, she thought, to see the top bulb of the glass so full with sand, defiantly resisting the pull of gravity.

Sarah began to pace in agitation, absently rubbing her fingers over the necklace. That was another thing she could strangle the Goblin King for. There was no clasp or catch and the chain was too short to slip over her head. Granted, it felt comfortable caressing her neck and it was pretty enough to wear anywhere, but it certainly wasn't helping her convince her stepmother that she wasn't hiding a beau from the family.

She settled at the window, watching the sun set. It was weird, she thought as the golden rays bled crimson and orange, how untroubled she'd been just a few days ago. Things were so much more complicated now. Why couldn't Jareth have stayed in her dreams? The man hadn't even been in her room for five minutes and already she was in a world of trouble. It was odd how in his world, where she was at every disadvantage, she found it easier to deal with him. But in her world, where she should have felt more at ease, it became impossible to understand him.

Shaking her head, Sarah wedged herself onto the tiny little window seat and decided to watch the stars come out. And if her stepmother thought she was hiding out of mortification at being caught, well let her. It wasn't all that far from the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally chapters thirteen, fourteen, and fifteen. I feel like I probably should have cut this chapter off sooner, but there just wasn't a good place.
> 
> Just as a reminder: the next three weeks are pretty chaotic for me, so future chapters may be a little delayed.
> 
> Please Review!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.


	7. Two Souls Divided

_Sarah had fallen asleep at her window seat by the time he arrived. She was adorable with her arms curled around her knees, her side pressed up against the cold glass. Jareth carefully brushed his hand over her cheek, curiously moved by how small, how utterly vulnerable she looked. Moonlight spilled through the window to bathe her in a silvery glow, making her appear just as ethereal as he. Yet there was an inherent fragility there, her mortality undeniable._

_Something within his chest tightened and roared to life. He had felt this way before: when he had seen her for the first time as a babe. It was the overwhelming need to protect, to possess, to know that she was safely folded within his powers where no harm could come to her._

_He could easily ensure it... But at what cost?_

_Jareth was well aware that it was dangerous to romance her. He would not be able to stop until he had secured her affections; he knew that in the last nineteen years she had become a terrible addiction for him, and to continue watching her from afar was no longer an option. Not if he valued his sanity. But there would be problems with taking her Underground._

_She had to come willingly or not at all. For now, her cooperation was assured through her debt, but after that he would not be able bring her to his kingdom unless she allowed it. Sarah was a stubborn creature, and she would fight him at every turn._

_Jareth's eyes narrowed on her face, realizing that he would have to be temptation incarnate in order to convince her to leave her friends and family. He was not completely heartless, she would always be allowed to visit them, but it would be a large concession on her part, nonetheless._

_It was the thought of her mortality that plagued him, though. Continuous exposure to the magic within his realm would change her, but he wasn't exactly sure how such changes would manifest. She had a great deal of latent power for a human, else she never would have been able to call him, and the power of his realm would latch onto her and rapidly coax more of that magic to the surface. However, there was no guarantee that it would have any effect on her lifespan. With some studying it was possible that he could sustain her life indefinitely, especially with his hold over the element of time, but that was an option that should only be considered after he was able to see what changes were wrought in her._

_The real danger was that all manifestations would develop quickly and permanently. If Sarah refused to enter his kingdom after her thirteen hours had been spent, she would soon fall ill and wither without any magic to support her new nature. Letting her die was simply not an option. He would breech whatever code he had to, break whatever laws stood in his way, even kill if it was necessary, because nothing was going to stand between them if her life was in jeopardy, not even Sarah herself._

" _You do such terrible things to me, dearest," he murmured while watching her shift in her sleep. "I have not felt so emotionally violent since the creation of my Labyrinth. Why do you torment me, Sarah? Why am I the one you summon?"_

_Her shoulders twitched, as if to shrug at his questions._

_"No," he laughed humorlessly, "I doubt you know either. I've watched you your whole life and cannot answer those questions. You confound me, and yet I remain bewitched. A mortal should not be able to enchant an Immortal King, dear one; it is unnatural," he whispered fiercely, studying her as she began to awaken._

* * *

Sarah cursed herself for falling asleep at the window. Her neck was stiff, the muscles knotted tightly. Whatever had woken her was godsend; she didn't even want to imagine how sore she would have been had she slept there the whole night.

Lazily, Sarah opened her eyes. Her little seat was caught in a pool of starlight, the room beyond looking dark and uninviting. She stifled a shriek into her hand; something to her side had glided through the shadows.

There, in the blackness that had descended upon her bedroom, were two eyes: twin icy points of inhuman light gazing at her in frightening scrutiny. There was something cold and desperate in that gaze, something incomprehensible and not the least bit crazed. But, as if hearing her thoughts, the eyes blinked and hid their fierceness behind a glaze of humor. Jareth stepped into her puddle of moonlight, arrogance and amusement trailing him like a cloak, but his typical demeanor could not erase the raw emotion she had just glimpsed.

It took Sarah a few moments to realize that his demeanor was not as typical as she had first assumed. From less than a foot away, Jareth looked... _weary_. It was there in the tightness of his face, in the stiff way he held himself. The fine laugh lines around his eyes conveyed an exhaustion she never would have credited him with had she not witnessed it herself. And yet there was a fever brightness to his eyes, a twitch to his fingers that suggested he was too keyed up to rest. It was strangely human of him. She couldn't think of a time he had ever looked so vulnerable, not even when she had unwittingly rejected him.

Jareth smirked at her slow study and gave her a mocking bow.

"I don't trust you," she stated simply, trying to ignore that even in his playfulness he seemed tired.

"I should hope not," he smiled, but the gesture never reached his eyes. "It would take all the fun out of our relationship if you were the least bit complacent."

Sarah peered through the darkness. She could barely make out the small shape of the hourglass, but the tiny grains of sand seemed to be pouring out at a sluggish pace. Turning back to Jareth, she narrowed her eyes and asked, "What do you want?"

"So distrusting," he observed bitterly.

"I have every reason to be," she reminded him. "You've done nothing to prove that I'm safe in your company."

Jareth ignored the accusation or, more likely, could say nothing to refute it. "I thought we could start out with something simple. A walk; that shouldn't be terribly difficult for either of us." He held out a gloved hand to her in offering.

"A walk?" she repeated dumbly and he nodded, hand still held aloft expectantly. Sarah blinked. Was he insane? "If I had you at my mercy, I'd have something a lot more sinister planned than a walk. How exactly is mild exercise considered revenge?" She frowned at him. "You're just incapable of doing anything expected, aren't you?"

His smile froze and became brittle around the edges. "Let's not prod at that sore point, Sarah. Neither of us can ever win that argument."

"Why a walk?"

Jareth raise an eyebrow, "Did it ever occur to you that I might simply be lonely?"

"I can't afford to see you as approachable," Sarah replied hotly. " _You_ taught me to always be on guard."

"And I pay for that mistake every second we are together."

She tried to ignore the hopelessness in his response, the desolation in his eyes. Jareth was spirited and larger than life. How could he be lonely? He could be acting, of course, but the vulnerability she glimpsed in him seemed too brittle, too raw to be faked. And, despite all odds, the thought that he was lonesome melted her cold heart a little.

She caved in. "Where?"

"A place no mortal has ever trod," he answered vaguely. At her unimpressed look he added sincerely, "It is somewhere I often go to relax."

Her curiosity piqued at the prospect of learning what sort of place Jareth would choose to haunt. With a silent prayer, she finally took the proffered hand. His grip was cool and firm, and the moment they made contact her orderly, mundane room melted away to reveal a new world.

It was Nature as Sarah never could have imagined it: wild and dark, dangerous and beautiful, untouched by the march of time and industry. The moon shone down on an ancient forest, silvering trees taller than she'd ever thought possible. Here and there along the unpaved trail before them were luminescent flowers, glowing gently through the darkness. But in that darkness creatures moved, unseen things that lurked and waited for an unwary soul.

The two of them began to walk down the path at a leisurely pace, and Sarah found herself staying close to Jareth's side. The forest was enchanting but a little unsettling and, for as much as she didn't trust the Goblin King, she knew somehow that he would protect her from the hungry eyes that followed their progress.

* * *

_Sarah walked beside him, enchanted if a little wary, but that was all right because the enchantment was definitely winning out. At her expression of awe, he couldn't help but feel a little proud of himself._

" _What is this place?" She whispered, as though afraid to disturb the inherent tranquility._

" _K'shent Mier," Jareth replied with great pride. When she looked at him confusedly, he elaborated, "It is an unspeakably ancient place, once part of your world. Underground, it is the seat of my power."_

_Sarah furrowed her brow and looked around. "You rule from the middle of a forest?"_

_He laughed and linked arms with her, steering her away from where the path became rough. "There is a city in the center; this forest protects it."_

" _Protects it from what? Enemies of the Labyrinth?" Sarah frowned, her fingers curling on his arm as she thought. Jareth savored the contact, hoping it meant that she was becoming more at ease with his presence. "Wait, this is the seat of your power? You don't rule from the Goblin Castle?" Understanding began to dawn in her eyes. "You're more than just the Goblin King, aren't you?"_

_He nodded. "Many regions are directly governed by the local nobility, but they all defer to me. The_ Underground _is my kingdom." And already, thoughts of that troublesome kingdom were intruding upon this interlude. If their arms hadn't been linked he would have been rubbing his temples at the thought of tomorrow's Court session._

" _Wow," Sarah paused. "And I thought just controlling the Labyrinth would be tough."_

_Jareth shook his head, "The Labyrinth and I are of one mind, there is no need to control it." Sighing, he added, "The rest of the kingdom, however, requires a much firmer hand."_

_She puzzled over that for a minute. "You're reluctant to get involved?"_

" _It's... complicated," he shrugged, studying her. It was refreshing to see that she was genuinely interested in his answer. "Immortal society has ever moved in circles, and the only way to keep it from collapsing in on itself is periodic intervention from the monarchy. In this case, me."_

_He turned his gaze heavenward, searching for the moon and the stars through the thick canopy of the trees. Arrogant as he was, he found it difficult to talk about himself in this way. Few understood the effect that being the King had on him, and it bothered him to think Sarah might not feel enough compassion to even try. "Not many can appreciate what it means to rule. Every day in this interminably long life, I awaken knowing that without my guiding hand everything would speed toward chaos. That is my reality." He finally gave in to temptation, running his free hand over his face. "I have been keeping my people safe from anarchy for centuries, and on occasion it tires me beyond all comprehension."_

_She came to a stop and turned to face him. "Then why be king at all?"_

_Jareth met her dark gaze, keenly aware of the distance his birthright put between him and all others._ " _There was no choice in the matter," he answered. "My father was King before me and I am his heir. I had to take the throne. In my younger years I toyed with the thought of abdicating, but then what purpose would I serve? I was raised to be a king; it does not matter if I enjoy the job."_

* * *

Sarah was quiet for a long while after that, allowing her companion to lead her through the twisting forest.

She felt, perhaps, the slightest bit humbled by what she had just learned. It had never crossed her mind that Jareth could rule over more than just the Labyrinth. True, she hadn't known him for very long, but this weary regal figure seemed so at odds with the cunning Goblin King she had met. What sacrifices had he made, been _forced_ to make in the name of duty? It made her life seem so simple in comparison. And how terrible, she thought, how maddening it must be to have so much expected of him just because of who his father was.

This wasn't at all like the fairytale kings she had learned about in stories, she realized; this was real government, a real kingdom that he was sworn to protect. And he ran the Labyrinth on top of that, she thought in amazement. Even with his power over time, she imagined that he struggled to complete all his duties. And it had to be painful, in some way, to rule when he so clearly didn't want to. Did that make him a bitter tyrant, or was he a just king?

Questions began to swirl around her head, and in a moment of astounding clarity Sarah realized that she knew nothing about him. The man standing beside her was a stranger. She knew he could be shrewd and cruel, but now he spoke of honor and responsibility and it didn't fit in with what she had thought she'd known. Who _was_ Jareth?

The silence stretched on as they continued to walk. Her thoughts chased themselves in circles, and she was going to have to stop thinking about it or she would go mad. But without her thoughts, the silence was unnerving. Jareth, for his part, seemed content just to stroll along with her, so she would have to start the conversation back up herself.

Sarah glanced at him for a moment and was once again struck with how different he suddenly seemed. " _Are_ you lonely?" she asked, suddenly remembering his words from earlier.

Jareth studied her, a sad smile curling his lips. "More than I can bear, sometimes." His arm flexed under her fingers. "Other times, I have all the company I could ever desire."

"I was lonely, after my mother left. I thought I'd never be happy again, so I can sympathize." She swallowed at the uncomfortable emotions her confession brought up. "But there is a distance between us, Jareth; there always has been."

"I am only asking that we attempt to bridge it."

The question burst from her lips before she could stop it. "Why?"

He stopped walking and drew her close, frowning down at her as something altogether bleak and miserable danced through his eyes. "Is it really so hard for you to believe that I am merely desirous of your company? That I see something in you worth pursuing?"

"I don't understand you," she explained. "I have nothing to go off of but what I know of you and, increasingly, I'm finding out that it's nothing at all. I _have_ to question your motivations because you don't go out of your way to explain yourself, and if I don't know what your intentions are, then I can't trust you. Especially when I know that you won't think twice about threatening my loved ones in order to get your way."

"I am not used to having to make myself plain," he admitted, "and, even if I were, it is in my nature to be ruthless and duplicitous. I cannot change that about myself; it is who I am. Nevertheless, I will try to make myself as clear as possible." He waited for her nod before continuing. "Our lives are intertwined, Sarah. They have been for some time, and I ask only that you allow us the opportunity to discover why."

"Intertwined?"

"Indeed," he confirmed, but did not answer the inherent question. Instead, Jareth took her hand from his arm and gently brushed his lips over her knuckles.

Sarah had all of a second to be shocked at his gentle touch before he and the forest disappeared, her bedroom swimming back into reality.

Alone with her thoughts, she pondered for a minute, trying to ignore how her fingers still tingled. She hadn't expected him to... She'd known, of course, that Jareth held some sort of affection for her, but she hadn't really expected him to act on it. The gesture was thoroughly antiquated, and yet somehow endearing. In truth, she'd actually enjoyed their hour or two together.

Sarah was just beginning to think that perhaps their relationship was turning a new leaf when she noticed that _much less_ than a thirteenth of the sand had filtered through the hourglass.

As she laid awake in bed that night, she couldn't help but be angry. Was this some sort of trick? She'd been stupid enough to sympathize with Jareth, perhaps had even started to like him a little, and already he had betrayed that. Could nothing be simple where he was concerned?

* * *

Sarah knew she had nodded off at some point, so it wasn't much of a surprise when she opened her eyes to discover herself in, not her own room, but _his_ study. She hadn't been given the peace of her own dreams for a over a week now, so it seemed unlikely that she would start receiving peace any time soon.

What she wasn't expecting was for Jareth not to be present. The study was cold and dark, the fireplace empty as though it knew its master was gone. The silence was unnerving, but not absolute. Someone else was in room with her.

"Hello?" Sarah called. When no answer greeted her, she rubbed her tired eyes and murmured, "My life has become a never-ending nightmare." The last thing she remembered was going to bed with angry and confused feelings toward the Goblin King. "I should smash that stupid hourglass, then maybe things would go back to normal."

"I doubt he would take kindly to that." A shadow flitted out of the deeper darkness of the room. It was not the Shadow-Man she had encountered before; the newcomer sounded younger, appeared smaller.

She chewed at her lip, unsure whether to trust this new shadow. Not that she'd trusted the old one, but at least he'd had the element of familiarity. "Who are you?" she finally asked.

"My name is Hadrian," he replied, a smile clear in his voice. "I am the heir apparent until Jareth manages to father some children of his own."

"What do you want?"

The Shadow-Boy seemed to struggle to find the right words. "I owe Jareth a great deal. He has given me more than I can ever hope to repay." Hadrian paused, taking a deep breath. "It is for his sake that I give you this warning."

"A warning?" Sarah echoed. She had a fairly clear idea what sort of thing the King's ward might say to her. "Let me guess... You want me to stay away from him because, as a mortal, I am in no way his equal?"

"I would never presume to insult you in such a way, being human myself, and there is no question that you are his equal. Even if you hadn't proven yourself, in choosing you he made you his equal." He seemed to stare at her necklace for a moment, though it was hard to tell when he had no distinct features. "No, I am here to help. I want you to understand that what I am about to tell you must not be taken lightly. This is a delicate matter."

She nodded, wondering where this could possibly be going.

"What do you know of the creation of the Labyrinth?"

"Nothing," she answered. "I suppose I thought the land had just always been that way."

Hadrian shook his head. "Jareth created the Labyrinth in a fit of rage. He poured all of his magic and cunning into it. So much so, that he never really got all of himself back. Do you understand?"

"I don't think so, no."

"Jareth is more fragile than anyone realizes," the boy sighed. "He is an incomplete man, and I fear it would not take much to break him entirely."

"I don't want to hurt him," Sarah replied seriously, "but I have to look out for myself, too."

"I appreciate that your position is difficult, my lady," Hadrian soothed. "I ask only that you tread carefully, for the sake of the kingdom if not Jareth."

There was so much wrong with that statement, so much she didn't fully understand. "Yes, but," she began, only Hadrian's shadow had already gone. The room was empty, save her.

* * *

_Time management was not precisely one of Jareth's skills. Why bother when he could simply rearrange time to suit his needs? Yet even he could not be in two places at once, and he would need to be if his new plan for Sarah had any hope of working._

_Jareth paced his sitting room, mulling his thoughts over. Karen had presented him with an opportunity for more steady, constant contact with Sarah. He needed that sort of interaction with the girl if he was to have any hope of softening her to his suit. Yet at the same time, he was honor-bound to attend Court, which was far less stimulating but infinitely more necessary. When he looked at it though, his business with Sarah was deadly serious in its own right. They were both sensitive issues that required attention. So how could he attend to both at the same time?_

_An idea struck him, an awful, cringe-worthy idea that would make everyone furious if they found out. But that was one of the few perks of being King—even if the entire Court collectively caught on to his lie, no one could call him on it._

_Carefully, Jareth sought out the wild side of his thoughts, the side that was drunk on magic and revenge, the side that was of one mind with The Labyrinth. And, as always, The Labyrinth responded to Jareth's call, its dark strength eager to be of use._

* * *

For a moment, Sarah expected to suddenly find herself speeding toward consciousness, but it seemed this particular dream was not yet over.

Hadrian's Shadow had gone, leaving Jareth's study empty and ominous. Along the far wall, the cold grate in the fireplace gave a flicker, as though considering whether to spring to life. Her heart leapt in response, wondering if this meant Jareth was approaching. Not having the energy to face him or, frankly, the desire, she darted through the open door.

The hallway beyond the study was wide and tall. Walls of polished green stone rose up around her, fading into the shadows of the rafters. Sarah took an uneasy look down either end of the corridor. One way seemed to stretch on forever before bending off out of sight, and the other way connected to a wealth of stairwells leading in all different directions. Not quite as confusing as the Escher Room though, she decided, but complicated nonetheless.

With her back still to the study, she tried to figure out which way presented the lesser of two evils. Feeling that she had seen enough staircases in Jareth's kingdom to last her a lifetime, Sarah began marching down the longer end of the hallway. With every step, she silently willed herself to wake up. Not that the corridor was a terrible experience—there were bright torches along the walls to keep the atmosphere content and warm—it was just that she had no idea why she was still in the dream.

And what exactly were these dreams, anyway? It wasn't like when she was with Jareth at all—in these dreams she only ever saw the shadow of people. And who were these shadows? Hadrian had introduced himself, but what of the Other? Were the pair of them always shadows or were they hiding themselves from her for some reason?

Sarah walked blindly as she was lost in thought, her bare feet quietly slapping against the floor. It was amazingly warm for stone, but she hardly noticed that when her mind was running in circles. Thus occupied, she was barely aware of turning the sharp corner she had seen from the study.

A short flight of stairs greeted her unexpectedly and she tumbled down them with a shriek. She came to a thudding stop at the bottom, cursing loudly.

Someone off to her side chuckled at her misfortune. Angrily, she whipped her head around, ready to give them the tongue-lashing of their lives, but no one was there.

A sharp pain shot up from her hand, and with a groan of frustration Sarah realized her palm was bleeding. It figured, somehow, that there would still be pain in this stupid dream.

The chuckling stopped abruptly, the Shadow-Man stepping into view. He was different from before; he had form now, no longer a shadow cast on the wall, but some sort of dark wraith instead. "You're hurt," he observed, crouching down to look at her hand.

Sarah swallowed her sudden nerves. She knew this was the Shadow-Man, but the differences in him were astounding; his appearance wasn't the only thing that had changed. In her previous dreams, he had always been flippant and vaguely amused but now he was dark and angry, his presence oppressive.

"It's nothing," she finally replied, "just a little cut."

He made a sound, something between an angry rumble and a long-suffering sigh, and lifted her hand for inspection. His grip was strong as steel yet oddly gentle, as though terrified of hurting her further.

It was disconcerting to see the corporeal shadow holding her hand, to feel the nothingness that was definitely something carefully cradle her injured limb. Sarah had never truly been scared of the Shadow-Man before, but in this moment she felt the danger rolling off him in angry waves.

A small drop of blood trickled down her forearm and fell to the floor. In a flash, the hallway was plunged into coldness, ice coating the walls while frost crept through the cracks between stones. If she hadn't been terrified by this reaction, she would have had the good sense to shiver.

The Shadow-Man gently but inexorably pulled her forward. Panicked at the thought of being closer to all that cold rage, Sarah tried to jerk away. The corridor grew slightly more chilled in response but his grip did not loosen. "Don't be difficult," he said.

She knew that voice; she hadn't recognized it in previous dreams, but she hadn't remembered the Goblin King at that point either. It was _his_ voice, dark and velvety. "Jareth?"

But he shook his head at her question, and she was too distracted to pursue it when her hand suddenly went numb. With sick fascination, she watched the skin of her palm knit itself closed, blood disappearing as though she had never been hurt.

The Shadow-Man caressed her wrist, his thumb sliding over the newly mended flesh. She felt a jolt at his touch; her healed hand was alive with sensation, feeling the simple caress stronger than she'd ever felt anything.

"You should be more careful," he chastised quietly, "for our sake, if not your own."

"Who are you?" Sarah demanded. "Who is this other you keep alluding to?"

He didn't answer. The Shadow-Man's touch turned absent-minded and his head cocked to the side as though listening to a voice only he could hear.

She pulled away from him without any resistance. He was distracted, she realized. "I have so many questions and no one ever answers me. I just want to know what's going on," she sighed.

Of course, _that_ he heard. "You are caught in a tide," he replied, setting a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Powerful in your own right and stronger every day, yet helpless to stop this chain of events." He paused, apparently thinking over her previous questions. "The other I refer to is Jareth, a male that I ask you not judge too harshly. He is not only in love but in obsession as well, and that makes him blind to the truth of what he does to you."

"And that makes it okay for him to not consider my feelings?" she asked hotly.

"No," the Shadow-Man replied, "but it gives you insight into _why_ he doesn't."

"Who are you?"

His hand slipped from her as he drew away. "I am Jareth," he mused, "yet I am also not Jareth. We are no longer the same person, yet we are of one mind."

Sarah held onto his words, even as the dream around her began to give way to consciousness. She'd heard that last phrase before, hadn't she? But where?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally chapters sixteen and seventeen. A good deal of the content here has been changed, though most of the general plot is still the same.
> 
> Sorry for the delay on this chapter—final projects were a bit overwhelming. My writing traditionally slows down around holidays, but I'm working with a highly different process on this story so I'm still going to try updating once a week.
> 
> Please Review!
> 
> Disclaimer: Jareth and Sarah, et al, are the artistic property of Disney, Henson, Lucas, and Jones. No money is being made off this story.


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